


Outlaws from the West

by The_Blonde_and_the_Brunette



Series: The Yeehaw Corral [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: AU, Animal Death, Arthur is a tortured softie, Avalanche, F/M, Fix It, Gunslinging, JUST KISS ALREADY, John is a canon idiot, Multi, New phone who dis?, Sex, Stockholm Syndrome, The Plot Thickens, Violence, captive wife, description of animals being field dressed, oh TB?, sadie is not amused by hanky panky, theres a happy ending after the bloodshed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2020-07-10 09:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 38,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19903774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Blonde_and_the_Brunette/pseuds/The_Blonde_and_the_Brunette
Summary: This is the big story, the one with the plot and actual consequences. Rabbit has been taken hostage by two outlaws making a final bid for freedom in the west. This is their journey.





	1. Faith

**Author's Note:**

> If you’re coming here from Test of Faith, this is more than a rework, I promise. There’s more plot, things are a little different, I got to play a little more here than I did with the original plan of strung together one shots. I hope you like it.
> 
> Rabbit is a character that can double as a reader/OFC. You’ll see

A couple of days had past since the little group had started to move out of the mountains that Rabbit had called home. Leaving those snow capped peaks had been traumatic enough, but it wasn't as if she had much of a choice. The two outlaws that had claimed her for their own were dead set on the fact that she was coming with them, either willingly or hogtied to a horse if it came to it. 

The fact that they genuinely seemed to care for her, strange as it was, only added salt to the fire of her predicament. They treated her kindly for the most part, not like the captive she technically was. After that first night in the cabin, the watch even felt like it was set for safety, instead of making sure she didn't escape, and they were almost downright gentlemanly until night fell.

Each night however, one of them would share her bedroll, the other either standing at the far end of camp or watching from across the fire. They never physically forced or held her down again, but eventually she just gave in under the onslaught of stress and exhaustion, desperate to feel the adoration that bled through every touch they gave. She had never heard of a relationship like this, but he two men seemed at ease with one another, fitting into roles that she was only just starting to understand.

When Arthur looked at her with heat in his eyes, she knew it would be a long, drawn out night. He was dominant, demanding obedience. Oddly enough though, he was patient with her as well, far more patient than he was with John.

And John, well, liked to be sweet. He burned all day long like a firecracker, roughness only reeled in by Arthur's tightly leashed control. When he was with Rabbit, however, all that wildness melted away.

That was something else that was difficult, learning to answer to Rabbit. It was her name now, like it or not. The first day, John had questioned her while they were saddling the horses, the realization that he didn't know her name seeming to cross a personal boundary he had. However, when she had just shrugged and answered Rabbit, he had grown angry and persisted.

Arthur had watched them from atop his horse, hands folded over his saddle pommel, as they bickered like children. When he had grown tired of listening to the argument going round and round, he finally broke in and told Marston to 'leave the poor rabbit the hell alone'. So, she stayed Rabbit.

This journey would be easier if she weren't exhausted all the damn time, or even knew where they were headed. The nightly parlays with a man were not helping the fact that she often found herself drooping in the saddle, but there was no slowing down or rest stops. One of the men, usually Arthur, would simply ride up next to her and pluck her from the saddle, depositing her in front of him at any sign of weariness. John didn't notice things like that as quickly, it seemed, and it was often the older cowboy that barked a reminder at him.

The strangest thing however, discounting multiple lovers and being abducted, was the fact that for the first time in her short life she actually felt safe and wanted. You would think being set upon would have reduced her to tears or jitters, but on the contrary it was almost easy to forget how she had met them. Her body never would, but it had a mind of its own whenever they were around and she chalked it up to muscle memory.

However, unlike her the men were definitely on edge, on the run for something or someone, and her excellent eavesdropping abilities often came in handy when they thought she was sleeping.

"Sadie and Charles meetin us at Horseshoe Overlook?"

"Figured it was safe," Arthur spoke around a cigarette, the smoke looping up into the sky, "if they got away from Beaver Hollow clean, that is."

From the bedroll where she was pretending to be asleep, curled up under a boar hide blanket that Arthur had dropped on top of her a little while ago, she watched the lit end of the cigarette glow and the smoke trail off. They were standing at the edge of the campfire, John with his rifle and Arthur without his shirt. It was funny, John being on guard. If anything was near, it had most likely been chased off by the screams Arthur had pulled from her earlier.

Her body twitched a reminder, but she fought down the moan that bubbled up her throat, trying to concentrate on what else they were saying.

"This is a goddamn nightmare, Arthur. Escapin' the shit show Micah and Dutch brought on themselves is one thing, but this feels like we're runnin' away from our family too."

"The women went with Abigail, I made sure," Arthur pulled the cigarette out and blew the smoke upwards. "Bill and Javier went south. I offered, they refused." He didn't sound too happy about that. "This whole business got it where no one trusts no one.If we hadn't gotten outa there, we'd be swinging on the end of a rope."

Silence for a moment, John running a hand along the barrel of the rifle, tracing the grooves. "At least the women got out."

"Abigail weren't right for you," it was soft, the softest she had ever heard Arthur speak to John.Her head tilted to better see them, and then snapped shut when the movement drew Arthur's eyes, peeking again after a moment to see he had turned back to John. "At least some good came out of having to run."

John's laugh was a rasp."Bill did warn me yous gettin soft in your old age." 

"Bill is a goddamn idiot. Think I'm soft," Arthur's voice turned hard again, tone practically biting as he gestured towards Rabbit. "Think what we did to her was soft?"

The firelight flickered on John's face as he grimaced. "Could've done a lot worse."

"Ain't quite sure of that, and it ain't like we've stopped." His cigarette was squashed beneath his foot, and another promptly pulled out.

John didn't answer, just stood in silence as Arthur decimated another cigarette. Rabbit shivered as a cool breeze hit the back of her neck, and snapped her eyes shut again as both mens' eyes slid over this time.

"We'll need to pick up some new clothes tomorrow in town, heavier stuff for when we cross the mountains."

John's voice followed, "might as well stay in the hotel tomorrow, take a bath maybe. She's still got mud on her from Amberino."

What? Rabbit snuck a glance down her body, looking for the offending mud.

Arthur's chuckle was surprisingly loud. "Do yourself a favor, Marston, don't go telling her that." He threw down the second cigarette. "She already shakes like a leaf every time we look at her."

There was the snort of derision from John, followed by the sound of the rifle being passed over. 

"I'll take watch, you go keep her warm."

"She'd warm up to ya quicker if you gave her half the attention you to your horse, instead of ignoring her after you fuck her."

Her eyes snapped open at John's words, mouth popping open in surprise that he would even say something like that, even if it was true. Outside of sharing her bed, Arthur had kept his distance and his touching to a minimum after the first night in the cabin. Which was the exact opposite of John, no surprise there.

Rabbit had seen the way Arthur spoke and cared for his horse, and silently to agreed with John, even if he was an idiot.

Apparently Arthur was giving John one of those 'shut up' looks, the kind that make even her want to go crawl in a hole out of sympathy for the man, because John was suddenly at her side, shimmying under the boar rug. She faked limp, hoping he would still think she was asleep. John was either oblivious, or didn't care enough to call her on it this time.

He slipped an arm around her waist, rolling her closer, before his head dropped back. Within seconds he was snoring gently through his nose.

Rabbit rolled her eyes, before she elbowed him and rolled away, causing his snoring to hitch. No way she was gonna get a good night's sleep now.

\-----------------------------------------

She wasn't surprised the next morning to see Arthur splayed out on the other side of the fire, hat tipped low over his face to block his features. The sun was just tipping its nose over the horizon, painting everything in a soft yellow haze. It hit her eyes, causing her to raise an arm and grumble as she sat up, stretching the sleep away.

John was sitting by the fire, hair a raggedy mess, stirring the coals with a stick so it was hot enough to cook."G'mornin." He waited until Rabbit opened her eyes, peering over at him, before he held out Arthur's tin cup.

Rabbit returned his greeting and took the cup, sipping it cautiously. John's idea of coffee was vastly different than her own, but she managed to swallow the sip she had tried under his watchful gaze.

His eyes trailed downwards to her naked torso, and Rabbit paused, watching him curiously.

"You got bruises." 

He didn't sound pleased, and Rabbit glanced down. There was a perfect handprint turning yellow and green on the left side of her rib cage, and the opposite hip had a match. Why he hadn't commented on the dozen or so love bites that marred her breasts and hips was strange, but then again they didn't ache like the handprints were starting to. When she prodded one, the ache flared up sharply.

"Ow."

John huffed, "really? Ow?" He unbuttoned his wrinkled shirt and quickly passed it over. "Here, put this on, fore Arthur wakes up."

She slipped it over her shoulders, but made no move to button it. "Why? Just bruises."

"Just put it on." John reached over and impatiently started to button it, and Rabbit made a sound of displeasure as she was jerked forward.

"Marston, what the hell you doin?"

They both turned their heads at Arthur's voice. He hoisted himself into a sitting position, fingers rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Instead of answering, John finished buttoning the shirt and retreated back to his original spot. "Mornin."

Arthur grunted a reply, and then looked up in surprise when Rabbit held out his tin cup. He took it, raising it in her direction before taking a sip, which he promptly spat out.

Rabbit fought a grin as he groused. "This is disgustin, John."

As they bickered over the new camp rule that declared John was no longer allowed to make coffee ever, Rabbit fiddled with her hands, wondering how to bring up the conversation she wanted to have. It wasn't until Arthur placed a hand on her wrist, thumb smoothing over the skin, that she realized she had zoned out.

She blinked up at him, hand unconsciously moving away. "Yes, sir?"

She hadn't had a lot of opportunities to actually speak to him, and the honorific still felt a little weird when directed at him. What she was not expecting however, was the color that stole across his cheeks. John threw his head back and barked a laugh at his apparent embarrassment.

She glanced in between them, growing nervous, but Arthur only shook his head. "You don't have to call me that."

"But-"

"Amorous Congress aside, Arthur'll do." His words caused John to turn away, hand lifting to cover his mouth, but the older cowboy just closed his eyes and inhaled deeply at the younger man's actions.

Rabbit's face heated up, and she nodded, returning her attention to her hands.

"Something bothering you, Bunny?" John swirled his cup as he eyed her, lifting it to take a sip. 

Rabbit stared at him a moment, swallowed, and then dipped her eyes to the fire before blurting out: "are you gonna share me once we get to Horseshoe Overlook?"

John violently spat out the coffee, spraying it into the fire.

Rabbit flicked a glance towards Arthur, and got caught in his guarded stare.

"You wanna be shared?"

She shook her head violently, and Arthur nodded like it was settled. "Then you won't be. We told you, Rabbit, we'll take care of you."

"I'm your prisoner." She kept her eyes on Arthur, watching as he pursed his lips.

John answered, "no, you're not." At her incredulous look, he continued. "We're wanted men, Rabbit. You go off into the sunset, and the Pinketons find out you were with us? They'll string you up faster than you could tell 'em where we went."

"I wouldn't..." She gripped her hands tight, staring at her knuckles. "I ain't a snitch."

"No one usually is, until they've been tortured." Arthur's words were slow, and she raised her eyes to find them both looking at her. "If we did let you go, where'd you go?"

At her silence, Arthur pressed on. "We ain't good men, Rabbit, but we're honest. Just gotta trust us a little."

She buried her hands in her hair, pulling at the strands. She jumped when she felt Arthur's hands grab her own, stilling the movement. When she looked up at him, his eyes were thoughtful as he pulled her hands down. "You got anything else rattling around in that head of yours?"

"What the hell are you two running from?" She asked, tasted the acid of not knowing on her tongue.

Arthur shook his head, pulling back from her. "You don't wanna know, Rabbit."

"But-"

"No," he reiterated, mouth a hard line. When she mirrored his expression, something flickered across his eyes. "I ain't gonna paint an even bigger target on your back, girl, so get that mulish expression off your face."

She dropped her eyes, then raised them again as John broke in.

"Bunny. You try to run," his eyes were somber, "and we'll hunt you down.For your own sake as much as ours."

Fear bubbled up her throat, "I haven't tried-"

"Not yet, you ain't." Arthur patted her hand and then dropped it, "but you ain't been too tempted, yet."

Rabbit's eyes narrowed, fear turning to anger. "I ain't gut one of you neither, and I've had plenty opportunity."

Arthur chuckled at her outburst, rising and stretching. "Oh, that we probably would've deserved, though."

John's grin was back. "Definitely deserve a guttin or two, after all we've done."

Rabbit stared up at Arthur, anger bleeding out at their ill placed humor. It was hard to process all the emotions, hold onto them long enough to do anything other than react. Arthur watched as the fight went out of her, a frown marking his features when her eyes drooped.

"C'mon, Rabbit, we've got a good ways to go." His hands reached down to her, waiting for hers to slip against his palms before he hauled her up, hand holding her steady. "We'll rest once we get to town."

"Why we going to Valentine?"

Her question caused the men to share a look, but John just huffed a "great, we picked up an eavesdropper," and dumped the full percolator over the fire, kicking dirt to cover the embers.

Arthur watched him for a moment before answering. "We're picking up a letter,"he added more when she looked confused, "it'll give us directions to a safe path, locations of drops, stuff like that."

"A path over the mountains?"

He ignored her question, giving her a hard look as he ushered her towards the horses.

"We'll get you some new clothes in Valentine, if yours are so dirty you've taken to wearin the mangy raccoon's threads."

It took her a moment to realize he meant John, but the man's indignant scoff make her realize it was Arthur's idea of a joke.

His hands slipped into place on top of the bruises, and Rabbit flinched as his grip tightened, lifting her up into the saddle. His eyes missed nothing, but her next words stilled his hands as they drifted to the bottom of her borrowed shirt.

"Maybe a bath too? Get this mud from Amberino off."

His smile was small, gaze turning down before she could even be sure of it.

John was suddenly at his side, bedrolls bunched under one arm, finger jabbing into Arthur's bicep. "No. You two don't get to gang up on me." His finger pointed up at Rabbit. "So don't you even think about it." He stalked to his horse, ripping an extra shirt out of his saddlebag, getting caught in it halfway as he tried to put it on inside out.

Arthur snorted, hand sliding across her thigh as he turned and started for his own horse. "Oh, no princess, wouldn't dream of it."

\--------------------------------------------

Valentine was a livestock town at the base of a cliff with all the glamour of sheep shit and a shotgun design. Arthur and John were on the lookout the moment the horses crossed the railroad, and their disquiet didn't lessen until they reached the sheriff's office, where the man himself nodded to them as they rode past

They passed a doctor's office, gunsmith, saloon, general store and a hotel. Arthur reached over and took Sugar's reins from Rabbit, and she sat back in the saddle, fighting a yawn, as he directed them to the stables at the end of the road.

The stable master was a burly man, kind to the horses and posed no questions as Arthur registered his stallion, Buell, John's horse Old Boy, and Sugar to be boarded for a night. His eyes did flicker to Rabbit when she stumbled getting off the horse, but John was quick to catch her before she hit the mud, lanky frame blocking his view.

When they stepped out of the stable, John's hand was still wrapped around her upper arm, and she sagged against him, blinking blearily at Arthur as he turned. His head dipped, and the late afternoon sun cut over the brim of his hat and blinded her for a second.

"Gonna head to the General Store, save the post office for tomorrow. John, why don't you get us a room and get Rabbit a bath." He took a step and then turned back around. "Make sure she don't fall asleep and drown."

"I'm right here," she jerked her arm away from John, trying to straighten up. "I'm not a kid."

"Oh, we know that, Bunny." John's signature bark of a laugh made her ears red, and she jerked away from his hand again when he tried to take her arm.

Arthur watched them, head bobbing as he scratched at his beard. "What's your favorite color, Rabbit?"

She looked up from where she was still trying to twitch away from John's hand, but he managed to grab onto her when she stumbled again. "Shit. Uh... Blue?"

Arthur huffed, waving them on as he started for the store again, not turning back when John let out a frazzled "fuck"when Rabbit tried to jerk away her arm again and succeeded in making him stumble instead.

She thought it would be difficult, keeping John out of the bath room. When Arthur insisted something, he usually followed those orders to the letter. But when he opened the door of the hotel, pushing her through before him, he only asked the owner for the room, paid for it and the bath, and then plopped himself outside the door, tipping his head back.

"Rabbit." She turned at the door, watching as he took his hat off and rested it against his thigh, eyes dark as he looked up at her from beneath his lashes. "You want some company?"

She shut the door on his hungry look, stepping away from the wood so she couldn't hear his chuckle.

She almost fell asleep in the bath, it was a struggle to keep her eyes opened. If it hadn't been for the off key humming coming through the door, she might really have drowned in the tub.

The knock on the side door had her jerking, wide awake, as a girl with pretty blonde hair, piled up on top of her head, stuck her upper body through the door. "Hey, sugar, you need some help?"

Rabbit eyed the door that John was behind, then nodded. "Yea, that'd be great. Thank you."

When she finally came out of the bath room, steam trailing out after her, she found not John, but Arthur leaning against the dark paneled wood. When he looked up, his eyes tripped up on the wet curls of her hair as it fell over her shoulders.

His eyes moved to her own, and she watched as he straightened with a grumble, hand waving her in front of him. "Let's go upstairs, get your new clothes so John can have his nice shirt back."

Rabbit glanced down at the wrinkly object, covered in sweat stains. "This is his nice shirt?"

Arthur's eyebrows went up as he nodded, following her up the stairs. "The bad one has holes."

Rabbit refrained from asking the follow up question of "from what" and instead let him usher her upstairs, taking the first door to the left when they got there.

The room was simple, clean, bed against one wall, chair and chest of drawers complete with a mirror against the other. Arthur closed the door, and she paused in the middle of the room as he stepped up behind her.

She shuddered out a breath when his fingers ghosted a trail up her back, and turned her head to see him watching her. "I'm sorry I can't answer all your questions, darlin'."

"Could you answer just one?" Her words caused his head to tip to the side, mouth opening to curl around a word as he considered. Finally, he dipped his head, looking back at her while nodding.

"Why did you bring me along?"

His hand went to his eyes, looking upwards as he visibly turned away from her question, pulling back as he answered. "I don't rightly know, Rabbit. Could say we were greedy, could say we were scared." His blue eyes pinned her when they finally looked back down, sadness darkening the color. "All I do know is that we couldn't leave you there. Not after what we did, knowing what could happen to ya."

She looked down, but his fingers caught her chin, bringing it back up. "I'm sure I'll burn in hell for my part, sweetheart, but I don't regret my actions, when they led us to you." 

His lips tasted of whiskey when he bent down and brushed them against hers, soft and reluctant to part. She kissed back instinctively, fear falling away for a moment. When he pulled back, she exhaled slowly, hands curling as she struggled to tame the feeling in her gut, feeling like a ticking bomb.

His blue eyes were right above her face, hands framing her in when she tried to pull away. "A little faith Rabbit, that's all I ask." His lips twisted with rye humor, but he softly rubbed her cheek before pulling away.

"Come see your clothes." His hands snapped the cord surrounding the parcels sitting on the bed, and pulled back the crinkly brown paper and began laying out the clothing.

There were shirts, a pale blue one and a yellow starred with little flowers, the calico print soft when she reached out to feel it. Arthur waited until she had pulled her hand back before laying out a vest on top of the shirts.

Dark grey, lined with sheep's wool on the inside. A brown coat was laid over it, also with the thick sheep wool on the inside. Gloves, scarf, thick socks. Thick jeans were tossed to the side, along with a pair of thick red long johns that Rabbit snagged before they could leave Arthur's hand, holding them up in front of her. 

Something dropped on her head. She reached up and pulled it off, turning the brown stalker hat in her hands before placing it on top of the jacket on the bed.

"I don't think I've ever seen these." She gestured to the Long Johns. Turning to Arthur, she felt a bubble of nervousness when he started undoing his shirt, but he only pulled it slightly down so she could see the dark grey cotton underneath.

"You start wearing em when it gets cold.Growing up in mountains, you should know that." He looked like he wanted to ask her something, mouth opening, before seeming to think better of it. His fingers redid the buttons of his shirt.

She shrugged, "well I didn't."She let her fingers trail along the blue shirt again. When she heard the shuffle of more paper, she turned to watch as Arthur pulled something else out, running his hands over the material before tugging the Long Johns out of her hands, replacing it with the softest cotton she had ever felt.

It felt like water against her fingers, and she let it fall open, making a small noise in the back of her throat when she realized what it was.

The nightgown, adorned with tiny buttons up the front, was probably the nicest thing she had ever even seen, let alone hold. It was a bride's gift, an outfit for a wedding night, something she knew she shouldn't accept, knowing this even though she had grown up in the woods, away from polite society.

"I- I don't-"

"Yes, yous do." Arthur refused to take it back, hands on his belt buckle to thwart her attempts to press it back into his hands.

Her face was red, but it had nothing on his, he practically refused to meet her gaze. 

"But-"

"No buts," he rumbled, voice catching as he gathered up the clothes on the bed again, before nodding to the nightgown. "Go ahead and get that on, John's bringing food." He tucked the clothes into a leather bag, set it against the bottom of the bed.

"I'm gonna go get a bath." It was obvious he was trying to keep his eyes turned away as she started sloppily undoing the buttons to John's shirt, forgoing her earlier reluctance in favor of getting the stinky shirt off her skin. "Make sure you lock... the door..."

He trailed off, and Rabbit turned her head. His eyes were riveted on her waist, and at first she thought he was transfixed by her bare skin, until his fingers slid against the edges of the bruise decorating her ribs. She winced when his fingers pressed down for half a second, before they withdrew.

"So that's why you were wearing John's shirt."

"It was his idea," she whispered, and his hands returned to her skin, tracing patterns between the love bites and darker bruises. He took the nightgown from her, undoing half the buttons quickly before dropping it over her head. While she was blinded, she felt his lips press against the bruise on her hip, her heart thundering as she froze like a rabbit in his embrace.

The chapped surface ran up her stomach, lingering on the bruise on her ribs before he pressed them against her sternum, shadowing the love bites on the bottom of her breasts.

Her breathing hitched, sped up as he pulled her under, and her limbs twitched as if they were tied to a spiders web, arms coming up to tunnel into his hair.

Arthur pulled back, fingers brushing her skin as he buttoned the nightgown back up.Before he could kiss her again, she leaned into him, tipping her head back as her eyes fluttered, before losing her balance and sagging against him. He caught her effortlessly, tipping her back into the bed.

"Get some sleep, Rabbit. I'm gonna go get a bath."

She stared at him confused when he paused at the door, hand on the knob. "I'm gonna lock you in here," his eyes flickered, "you better stay put."

That fear edged back along her spine, reminding her that she really knew nothing about these men. She shrank into the flat quilt after he shut the door, hands grasping the nightgown when she heard the lock click into place.

\------------------------------------------

Warm lips pressed against the corner of her mouth, rousing Rabbit from sleep, wrapping her up in a distorted limbo, unable to respond. They nipped at her jaw, and then covered her own, pulling the breath from her lungs.

Her eyes finally opened, stared up into John's dark ones. His hands were on her nightgown, pulling the edge up past her thighs, knees bracketing her hips, keeping her flat on her back. She made a little noise, and he shooshed her, hands firm against her stomach as he dropped the cloth and splayed them against her skin.

She made another soft gasp when one hand dipped down and cupped her heat, and John slipped his tongue into her mouth at the opportunity. He pulled away for a second, taking in her dazed expression, before he huffed.

"Quiet, Bunny, don't want to wake anyone."He turned her head, fingers resting against the column of her throat as he maneuvered her to where she could see Arthur, splayed out in the chair where he had it propped in front of the door.

He opened a few buttons on the nightgown, pulling it down and to the side to bare her chest. His teeth rasped over the swell of her breast, lips following as he sealed them around a nipple, invoking a full bodied shudder from her as he flicked the tip with his tongue.

"Easy, Bunny, easy." He sounded incredibly pleased with himself as his words tickled her skin

She involuntarily arched as he slipped a finger inside her, curling it upwards. A finger pressed against her lips, silencing her. He shooshed her, lips next to her ear as he pumped his finger in and out slowly, watching the way her chest rose and fell, smiling when she squirmed.

Her eyes closed when his head dipped to suck at her hipbone, beard catching against the skin. Her fingers curled in the folds of the rucked up nightgown, needing the movement to ground herself. His hand was still on her throat, she could feel it every time she swallowed.

When she was finally able to open her eyes again, she almost jumped. John chuckled against her skin, mistaking the movement as the response to him biting the inside of her thigh.

Arthur was awake, eyes almost hidden under the brim of his hat as he stared back at her, gaze flickering down her body before he recaptured her stare. She watched in shock as his hand drifted down, pressing firm against the bulge in his pants as his hips lifted into the caress.

At that same moment, John sucked her clit into his mouth, and her hands jumped up to the grip on her throat, head slamming back. Her thighs quivered, fighting the instinct to close them around John's head as he swirled his tongue, creating friction as he added a second finger.

She bucked under him, and his touch disappeared as he stood, pulling her to the edge of the bed with one swift movement.She could see Arthur's expression through the brass rods at the end of the bed, and the hunger in it set her blood boiling, adding effect to John's ministrations.

When he pushed in, she wasn't expecting it, and a garbled cry escaped under his hand as her eyes snapped back to his. His brown eyes were almost black with lust, and his fingers inched up to grab her chin, turning her head back to Arthur.

"Don't watch me, missy, watch him." Her eyes widened at the command, but she was helpless to refuse as he tilted his hips backward before sinking in further.Her mouth opened on a silent gasp, thighs forced wide apart as John leaned over her, his other arm braced on the bed.

John's hips moved slowly, pulling out and pushing in with a casualness that bordered on lazy. His head dropped, hair brushing against her breast with every thrust.

She spaced out, pinned beneath him, eyes unfocused as she watched Arthur pull his pants down and take out his cock, fingers wrapping around his hard length. For some reason watching the pull of his fingers against his flesh highlighted the grasp on her neck, and she was hyper aware of each man's movements. The drag of flesh inside her body was mirrored in Arthur’s hand, and to her sleep addled mind they were all connected in this sensuous embrace.

John's fingers ghosted down her neck, crossing between her breasts, over her stomach and between her legs. She shivered when he began stroking her in time with his thrusts, slow and sweet. His breath teased her collar bone, but she could not turn her head towards him. She was trapped in a staring contest with Arthur, whose eyes practically dared her to look away as he stroked himself.

The kernel of pleasure grew in her core under the soft touch of John's fingers, growing brighter and brighter as he moved above her. Her small breaths became gasps for air as he picked up his pace, watching as Arthur's hand matched the tempo John set.

She went off suddenly, the orgasm blindsiding her as she arched up, plastering herself to John as her hands found his hips. He gave a groan and thrust deep inside, going stiff as he came.

Arthur's curse off to the side drew her eyes, and she watched as he spilled onto his hand, hips stuttering upwards through the pleasure, face a taunt grimace.

She twitched under the onslaught, visual and physical, whimpering as John pulled backwards. She felt sensitive, strung out. He leaned up and tilted her face, fingers pulling at her eyes to check her pupils.

"She's crashing." He muttered, turning and reaching for a brown bag next to Arthur.

"Good thing you brought food." Was the grumbled reply as Arthur discreetly wiped his hand on a hotel towel, dropping it to the floor and buttoning up his pants.

He stood and moved towards the bed, catching Rabbit's arms and trying to haul her up. "Rabbit, darlin, wake up. You need to eat."

She went with him bonelessly, pliant against him. When she was finally sitting up, he took a step back, ignoring how her fingers clasped his shirt in an effort to keep him near.

"Take the sandwich from John." When she blinked back at him, not moving or trying to take the offered sandwich, Arthur huffed and turned his ire onto John.

"Great, John. Couldn't have held back until she had a meal at least?"

"I didn't see you complaining, old man." John sent a pointed look towards Arthur's lap, causing the older cowboy to glare.

"I will shoot you, Marston."

John laughed. "Haven't yet," and waved the sandwich under Rabbit's nose. The smell finally knocked her out of her stupor, and she grabbed it, taking a huge bite. She ate half of it before she finally slowed down, and acknowledged the men.

She stared for a moment, looking around the room and taking in the position of the chair in front of the door that had supposedly been locked. "How'd you two get in?"

Both men stared at her over their sandwiches, but John answered, "outlaws, remember, Bunny?"

"Oh," now she did. She stared down at the sandwich, feeling a pit in her stomach that had nothing to do with the food. Sure, it felt strange somehow, eating food that hadn't been caught or spent most of its life living in a metal can, but it still tasted good. It was the reminder that they were wanted men that turned her gut.

She watched as Arthur ate his sandwich slowly, eyes following John as the man in question tried to get dressed and eat at the same time.

"Ya know, Marston, if you slowed down you might actually enjoy it." There seemed to be a hidden joke layered into the statement, but John only made a crude gesture over his shoulder at Arthur, the sandwich clamped between his teeth.

He took it out after he thumbed his suspenders on. "I'm gonna go check on the horses one last time, make sure the stablemaster got em in the back. Wouldn't do to have that monster of yours get noticed." 

He waited until he was out the door, pulling it shut halfway before he made his last remark. "Keep her warm while I'm gone, Arthur."

Rabbit's face felt like it might be on fire.

Arthur remained sitting in his chair, finishing his sandwich, before he scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed, head dropping back and to the side to stare at her. "You cold, Rabbit?"

She shook her head.

Arthur raised his head again, brow scrunching as she avoided his gaze. When she kept her eyes trained on the quilt patches, he dropped his head again and closed his eyes.

"Get back in bed, Rabbit."

She did as asked, looking over her shoulder to see if he followed. When he showed every intention of staying in the chair, she asked, "are you coming to bed, Arthur?" Her voice felt small in the air between them.

Eyes flickered behind closed lids. "You don't want me to, sweetheart, now go to sleep."

She had nothing to answer to that, because as always, Arthur was right.

\-------------------------------------------

The window in the room was positioned for the setting sun, not the rising. When Rabbit finally woke up, the room was still dark and cool, the silence punctuated only by the soft snores from the men.

She sat up slowly, stretching, shivering when the soft cloth of the nightgown slid against her skin. Half a glance told her she was still alone in the bed, and she looked over the edge, puzzled, to find John laid out on the floor, arm over his head as he slept.

Arthur was still in the chair, long legs crossed in front of him, hat completely covering his face. His hands were folded over his stomach, and they gently rose and fell with his breath.

The serene scene was broken when Rabbit slipped a foot onto the rough floor. First thing in the morning her bladder was always in a position of power, and she intended to sneak out and use the outhouse behind the building. However, the floor squeaked when she placed weight on her foot, and almost in unison the two cowboys snuffled and woke up.

Arthur sat forward quickly, hand rubbing the back of his neck as he eyed her, hat falling to his lap. John was slower, groaning as he shuffled up on his elbows, eyes still shut.

"Going somewhere, Bunny?" John's voice in the morning sounded like he was dying, croaking out like a toad trying to impersonate a man.

"Bathroom," she whispered, not stopping to explain further as she made for the door.

"Hold on, Rabbit." Arthur finally stood, stretching his back so it arched and popped before he shook out his arms. "You can't go out in just that nightgown."

She made a noise of impatience, drawing a snort from John as he used the edge of the bed to pull himself up. "There's a bedpan in the corner if you want it, Rabbit."

She and Arthur both glared at him, Arthur smacking him on the backside of his head as he passed and pulled out the clothes from yesterday. Silently, he held them out, and her fingers closed on the yellow shirt starred with white flowers first.

She was out the door again before she had finished buttoning up the pants, Arthur on her heels as she trotted down the stairs and rounded the clerk desk. She was out the door and to the little wooden building before Arthur had even cleared the hallway.

"Had to go?" He inquired, and she heard him walk around the side of the little building to give her privacy.She grumbled back at him, surprised when it pulled a huff of amusement from him.

When she emerged she found him watching the road, eyes tracking the people that came and went. When she stepped up next to him, he blinked down at her, the climbing sun bathing them both in warmth.

“I think we overslept.” She commented. Indeed, the sun was higher than she expected, closer to noon than what was technically morning.

“We all needed it,” he argued, shrugging his wide shoulders and standing straight from where he had been leaning against the outhouse. "How you feelin? Ain't seen you move that quick in a while."

She shrugged, now watching the people like he had been. "I'll probably be tired for the rest of my life, but right now I'm ok."

He nodded, mouth opening slightly as his eyes narrowed on something in the distance. "Get John to take ya to the saloon, get some breakfast. It ain't the best, but it'll fill you up." He shifted his weight before gesturing, pulling her back to the hotel.

"Where you goin?" She let him pull her along, feet surer and head clear enough to understand that she was being passed off again. John exited the door, yawning and covering his face with his hands.

"Going to the post office." Arthur kicked the edge of John's boot when the man refused to acknowledge their presence. "Go get breakfast, John. Hopefully we'll be leaving within the hour."

John's comeback was muffled by his hands. "Running away from the temptations of civilization already, Morgan?"

Arthur huffed, hand resting on Rabbit's back for a heartbeat before he tipped his hat to her and strode away.

"Is he gone?" John asked.

"Yea?"

"Thank God," he dropped his hands. "Man is too damn chipper in the mornin." He set his clenched fists on his hips. "You hungry?"

She was still trying to work out how the hell Arthur was chipper in the mornings, but she nodded and followed John around the edge of the hotel and back to the Main Street.

He threw out an arm to stop her from stepping out from the shadow of the building and into the street, head canting side to side as he took a moment to watch people passing. "Ok, then." He dropped his hand, leading the way to the saloon.

Valentine was a busy town, and the dirt Main Street had already been churned into a muddy swath with morning travelers. Rabbit made it halfway across the street, taking two steps for every one of John's, and then stopped, agitated, as the mud held fast to her boot.

"John!" She hadn't meant to shout, but his back went ramrod stiff at the sound. She waved weakly when he turned, brows pulled low over his expressive eyes. "Sorry, help?"

His brows popped back up at the sorry sight she made, foot stuck in the mud and straining to pull it out. His lips quirked, but she only snapped. "I'll tell Arthur you left me in the mud."

He snorted as he moved forward, hand grabbing hers to yank her free. "Already using the old man against me, eh?" With his help she actually made it to the wooden steps leading to the saloon, but John stopped her before they could look around.

"Rabbit, while we're in town, try to call me Jim if you have to, okay?"

She nodded, and he added, "Arthur's Fenton if you have to call for him."

His smile was secretive, but he only clapped a hand on her shoulder before sliding it around her waist when she gave him a confused look, and steered her inside the saloon.

The place was practically empty this early in the day, but the bartender still nodded at them and moved closer when they stepped up to the corner.

"Could we get some oatmeal, maybe some bread?"

John slid some coins across the bar, and the bartender scooped them up and walked away, returning with two bowls with steam curling from the top and a loaf of bread.

John tore a chunk of bread, and Rabbit followed suit, noticing that it's soft interior was studded with clumps of fruit, before pulling the bowl towards her. The man beside her ate quickly, practically scarfing his food down. Rabbit supposed it was a trait someone picked up when they lived life on the run.

When he finished he drummed his fingers against the bar, watching her eat. After a couple of bites though, Rabbit raised her head and lowered her spoon.

"Watching me ain't gonna make me eat any faster."

"You're spending entirely too much time with us, Rabbit. Getting ornery."

She just shrugged at his words.After a moment, he pushed away from the bar, eyes still on her. "If I go back to the room and pack up the rest of our gear, am I gonna find you here when I get back?"

Rabbit stared wide eyed at him. This was the first time an opportunity like this had come up, a chance for her to be truly alone.

His eyes narrowed as she paused, leaning forward to whisper."Will you stay here, Rabbit?"

"Yes," she whispered back without thinking, eyes flickering to the bartender and the only other patron. When he nodded like they had sealed a deal, turned and walked out of the saloon, her heart started thundering. His eyes had met hers right as he stepped out the door, and she knew he knew he was taking a chance.

Had she meant it? Would she stay put? Rabbit stared down at her oatmeal, realizing that if ever she was to have a moment to escape, it was now.

She dawdled, eating the oatmeal. Half of her screamed to flee the building, grab Sugar and go, and the other half hoped John would come back and remove the temptation.

On one hand, they really were looking after her, and Rabbit could tell even with her extremely limited interactions with men that they genuinely cared for her. On the other hand though, she was running with wanted men, crimes unknown to her, taken against her will and held hostage.

She ran a finger down the dinged up curve of the bowl. Maybe it wasn't against her will though, it's not like she fought tooth and nail against them. Had they met in another part of her life, another way, she might have been drawn to them instead of the other way around.

She snorted.Of course she was drawn to them, no use lying to herself. A half blind woman would be drawn to them, the way they looked and acted.

Her musings were cut short at the jangled clink of boots with spurs, and she felt relief that John was finally back, and that awful temptation removed.

However, when she flicked a glance to the saloon door, it wasn't John that walked through, nor Arthur. The form was wrong, too short and rounded, the wide shadow of his hat different from her cowboys'.

"Hey, boss, can I get a shot of whiskey?" Oily voice, dusty face, he looked like he'd been riding for days.

The man plopped himself at the bar, leaning his upper body against it, and flipped a coin in the direction of the bartender. However, the man ignored the coin as it spun on the wood, instead throwing his towel over his shoulder and facing the newcomer with a scowl.

"I remember you. I think you've caused enough trouble here."

The newcomer laughed, hands splayed wide as he stood back up. An undercurrent of danger ran through the room, and Rabbit was suddenly very thankful she was in the corner, out of this man's way.

"Don't be like that, friend. I'm working for the government, just about.Suppose to ask you fine folks about the whereabouts of a pair of lowlife, degenerates."

Rabbit's heart rate skyrocketed again, her mind going to two specific lowlife degenerates, and was thankful John hadn't come back yet.

The bartender didn't look convinced, but he unfolded his arms. "What you on about?"

"I'm with the Pinketons, lookin' for two gang members." He raised his voice so it carried throughout the building."John Marston, and Arthur Morgan. They was here a couple months back, rumored to be stoppin through town. Just wanna know if you've seen them."

The bartender pursed his lips, considering. "What they do?"

Rabbit barely heard him, her eyes glued to the newcomer as he talked. Time slowed down, her heartbeat sounded like a drum in her ears. Her eyes were riveted on his mouth as the words spilled from his lips, each like a knife in her gut.

"They're murderers, friend. Thieves, outlaws. Burnt a whole family to a crisp inside their house down in Rhodes, killed a bunch of folk robbin a bank in Saint Denis. Pillaged and plundered every state they've ever been through, and that's just the big ticket items."

"From the way I thought when last you was here, yous were buddies." This from the one other man at the bar, and the newcomer turned on him quickly with a thunderous look.

"I was undercover at the time I knew them, dimwit." His hand itched towards his gun, and Rabbit dropped her spoon.

Eyes flickered to her, but the bartender moved first. "Take your bread sweetheart, go on and go."

He held the hunk of bread out towards her, but Rabbit couldn't tear her eyes away from the newcomer. He turned fully towards her, eyes flickered over her, and a leer lifted his lips.

"Hey, pretty thang. You wanna come closer? I gots all kinds of stories." His laugh was a snap as she jumped backwards, hitting a table as she turned and made a beeline for the door, bread forgotten. She slammed her hand against the frame as she hurdled through, causing her to stumble, knuckles on fire.

She jumped the steps as the bartender's words rang in her head 'go on and go, go on and go." She was halfway to the stable before a voice ripped through he air, freezing her in her tracks.

"Rabbit!" John was standing in front of the hotel, one foot on the stairs as he stared at her, a line between his eyes. She had little doubt she looked terrified, and the man in the saloon's voice sounded in her head. 'Murderers, burnt a whole family to a crisp...'

She tore her gaze from him, sprinting for the stables, conscious that he would be right on her heels, with a longer stride. If she could just get to Sugar-

His arm was like steel when he snagged her waist, lifting her in the air even as she cried out at the shock. "Let me go, let me go, let me go!"

She screamed it at him nonstop, a mantra as she twisted violently in his grasp. He clamped down harder, causing her to squawk at the pressure on her forgotten bruises.

"I don't think she likes you much, Johnny Boy."

John's grip slackened at the sound of the voice, turning quickly to face it. Rabbit pulled away from him sharply, distantly hearing him answer:

"Micah, you oily snake, what are you doing?" He straightened, drawing his attention as he blocked Rabbit from the other man.

Micah stepped down to the street, hands settled on his gunbelt, fingers curled backwards. "Why, looking for you, cowpoke. Got a lot of catching up to do, friend."

"We never really were much of friends," John responded, not even giving the pretense of politeness as his hand settled on his gun.

Micah mirrored the movement. "Speaking of friends, where's old Arthur hiding?"

"He died on that mountain, you nasty rat."

"I find that very hard to believe." Micah snarled, and drew.

John was quicker, but Micah twisted, and his shot hit his arm instead of tearing a hole through his chest.

Micah's shot whizzed by Rabbit's head, and she jerked away from John, crying out. He turned halfway and pushed her further away, anger transforming his face into someone she didn't know. "Get out of here, Rabbit!"

She tried to warn him.As he turned, Micah's gun rose again, and Rabbit grabbed at his hand. A strangled, "John," escaped her, but the gun had already fired, the report from the chamber not completely masking the wet snick as the bullet found its mark. 

"Shit." He lurched into her, hand going to his ribs. When she tried to steady him, his head turned towards Micah, saw him clicking the hammer back again, and pushed Rabbit away. "I said get out of here! Go!"

He snapped at her, clicking the hammer back on his own pistol, murder in his eyes. Gone was the John she barely knew, and in his place stood the murderer Micah had proclaimed him to be in the saloon.

Rabbit tore off without a backward glance.

"You sure know how to pick women, Johnny Boy." Micah's smile was the snake in the garden as Rabbit tore off for the stable, and John wished he could punch it off of the man's face. "Maybe I can go find her after this is all over, show her a real man."

John clenched his jaw, shaking his head at the obvious goad. "We both know this is never over," John pointed the gun at his former gang member.

"Not til yous dead," Micah drawled, looking smug and almost bored.

There was a loud whinny behind them, and John felt the air buffet him as Sugar lurched out of the stable. He saw her flank out of the corner of his eye as Rabbit pulled her head around, but didn't spare her a glance as she galloped out of town, the thundering of hooves fading soon.

His side burned. John pulled his hand from his ribs, glancing at the hole in his shirt. He cussed and started breathing through the pain like Arthur had taught him. When he raised his eyes again, he could see a group of lawmen in the distance behind Micah.

"Tick tock, Johnny Boy.What's it gonna be, a bullet or a rope?" The snake’s smile died at the click of a hammer behind his head.

"You know," Arthur drawled, voice a dangerous rumble, "you really should learn to watch your back, seeing how yous a traitor."


	2. My Bloody Valentine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *descends from her tower of darkness*  
> I bring you another chapter darlings. Rejoice, for I have slain the demon of procrastination and outwitted the fickle muse who sought to rescind her inspiration. 
> 
> Don't hate me. Please.

Rabbit thought her heart would burst from her chest, how quickly it thundered under her ribcage. She was bent low over Sugar's neck, urging the horse to barrel down the dirt road exiting to the west of town. The sound of gunshots pierced the air behind her, each one a flinch that ran through her body.

She had no idea where she was going, only knew she had to get away. Far away, from Valentine, from Micah's words, from the murder in John's eyes. From her own stupid naïveté, lulling her into a dream where good men existed and there was a world outside of her mountain.

Sugar was tiring. Rabbit was not the only one unused to riding all day, and she let her slow, coming to a stop in the road before a wooden bridge. She stared at it, hearing the faint creaking of old joints in the wind. It sounded like faint mocking, and she shook her head, trying to block out the whispered words.

Hands pressed against her ears, bending in the saddle to thunk her forehead against the saddle pommel repeatedly. She sat there for a minute, mind whirling. Where to now, where to now, where to now.

_Off the road._ Her conscious finally got in a word over the noisy din, and she obeyed it quickly, turning Sugar down a small dirt track cut into the side of the hill to the left. It wouldn't do to continue moving west, making it easier for the outlaws to track her.

Her thought tripped on itself, reminding her of those gunshots that pierced the air. They might not be coming for her after all. They might be dead, even now, laying in a pool of their own blood, choking on the mud of Valentine. It didn't fill her with relief like it should have.

She was angry, at herself, at them, at everything. It was irrational and quick, blazing a hole in her chest as it tore through the cavity and left ice in its wake.

It wasn't until Sugar landed at the bottom of the trail, jumping the last few feet, that she realized she was crying. Silently, tears rolled down her cheeks, blurring her vision.

Her knees hit the dirt with no memory of leaving the saddle, her palms scraping against the small rocks that littered the ground. And still the tears would not stop.

_I was their prisoner. I didn't want to be there._ She repeated it inside her head, said it out loud, tried to make it true. _They were murderers, outlaws. They took me, they kidnapped me._

_They took you with them so you wouldn't get hurt, kept you fed. Warmed you at night, put clothes on your back._ Touched her with something akin to adoration. Rabbit screamed just to break her own silence, hands curled into fists as she thought.

If she stayed here, they'd find her. Her eyes slipped close, calling up memories. The press of Arthur's lips, John's arms wrapped around her waist to hold her close. His voice ripped through those moments though "you try to run, and we'll hunt you down". Arthur's eyes flickering as he locked her in the hotel room. The murder in John's eyes. Her breath caught in fear.

She couldn't ever let them catch her. If they did, she'd break before they ever got the chance to do it for her.

Her eyes snapped open at a soft wicker, Sugar's velvet lips nipping at her hair as the horse nuzzled her face. Arms came up automatically, taking the comfort the animal gave freely.

"What's wrong with me, Sugar?" Of course, if the horse had an answer, she didn't give it up.

She couldn't stay here, she had to keep moving. She'd already made her bid, succeeded in escaping the men. Now was not the time to start second guessing herself. It could prove fatal.

She hauled herself up, back into the saddle, and turned Sugar's head east. It was a predictable move, something that would surely be expected of her, but it was the only option open to her. Couldn't head west, north was a death trap, the only thing south was a body of water. That left east, back to the mountains she was familiar with, where she could hide and disappear from the world. Forget all about this odd adventure and the two cowboys.

A wry smile flitted across her lips, mingling with the tears, at the foolish thought.

\------------------------------------------

Arthur braced himself against the side of the general store, tucking himself into the lip of the alleyway as he slid bullets into the chamber of his revolver. Eyes cut upwards, checking on John across the street.

He was covered in mud, head to toe, looking like a mud monster instead of a man. He was wrestling with one of the six lawmen stationed in Valentine, the only one that was dumb enough to get within fist distance of him. Arthur squinted at him, noticing how he kept favoring his side. The grey shirt was stuck to his side, saturated with blood. Miracle he was still standing.

Arthur aimed, waited until John ducked away as the deputy tried to hit him with the butt of his shotgun, and fired, peppering the mud with blood and brain parts.

"I had him, Arthur!" The anger directed at the lawman and the situation was transferred to his brother, but Arthur had no patience for it.

He snarled, finger jabbing into the air. John obeyed it instantly, dropping to the mud without even a curse. Arthur fired, hitting the fourth deputy in the chest and feeling nothing but a sense of tiredness as the man dropped from where he had been running up on John.

"It's over boys, give it up!"

His head thunked backwards, eyes rolling as the sheriff shouted from the safety of the makeshift wooden barricade in front of his office. They always shouted that when they were losing. He risked a glance. Two left, no sign of Micah. He had slithered off when the shooting started, before Arthur could put a bullet in his brain.

That's what he got, for being more worried about John and ignoring the threat of the lawmen behind him.

Arthur watched as John started to belly crawl across the street, headed for the stables. He refused to look at Arthur, not even when the man waved his arm, and then whistled at him. Just kept up that steady crawl to the open door of the stable.

Arthur would be damned if that idiot brought Buell out here and he got shot. Hamish would probably strut down from where he was buried on top of the mountain, wrap his bony fingers around Arthur's neck, and throttle him until he was blue.

Conscious of his grim fate, Arthur rolled his neck from side to side, grimacing at the tight muscles, before he slipped from the safety of the building and took aim at the last deputy cowering beside his boss, eye peering over the barricade.

Time slowed, wind whistled past Arthur's ear, breath stopped. He could practically see the pulsing vitals inside the idiot, who instead of ducking had locked gazes with the outlaw in morbid fascination.

He fired, time returning to normal as the body slumped. The sherif did not make any more demands. Arthur rather thought he had probably shit himself.

He turned, intending to check on John, when a body came hurtling out of the general store, knocking against him and sending them both crashing. His gun flew from his hands, arcing away as Arthur grabbed at the flash of metal before his assailant could stab him in the chest.

Micah forced him into the mud, chest coming over Arthur as he tried to use his weight to bring the knife down. A snarl pulled back Arthur's lips as his fist blocked Micah's sudden downward punch. Micah was strong, but once again, he had underestimated Arthur. He was older, body a little slower after the starvation on Guarma, but his strength hadn't failed him yet.

His arms jerked, surprising Micah as the knife flashed up in the air before the snake could get it under control. Arthur planted his feet and tried to roll, succeeding after an initial scrabble. He switched his grip, palming the back of Micah's head as he started to force it down into the mud. He ignored Micah's scrabbling hand as it tried to get a hold of his jaw and force him back, knowing it would fall away after a moment. On top, it was clear who was stronger, but Arthur never took his eyes away from the struggling man. Men got desperate in the last few seconds.

John cursed off to his left, and Arthur twitched, forcing himself not to look over. "You ok, Marston?"

"Son of a bitch has a mean hook." A wet sound reached his ears, Arthur's nose scrunching up as it repeated over and over. No doubt John was going for overkill again, rewarding what was likely the previously cowering sherif. Probably saw Micah jump Arthur, got the same idea with John.

Unlucky for him, John was better with a knife.

Micah's eyes rolled in its socket, the hate filled orb staring up as he kept trying to pull himself out of the mud. Arthur pressed harder, grip slick on the knife as the dying man tried repeatedly to bring it overhead.

All it took was a second for the tide to change, and that's exactly what happened. The knife slipped from Arthur's grip, the blade arcing up as it tore through his arm. His yell and downward punch were instinctual, but the momentum was lost, and Micah kicked out, forcing him away.

Those precious seconds let him crawl from the mud before Arthur was on him again, blade torn from his arm whistling as he swiped it back and forth, aiming for the face.

Suddenly, one stuck, and Arthur let go of the knife in shock as Micah howled, hand clamped over his face as blood spewed out. Cursing himself, he leapt forward, only to draw back in shock and disgust when Micah's hand dropped, revealing part of the damage.

No way he'd be using that eye again, and Arthur had a savage moment to admire his work before the man tore off, abandoning the fight, gun drawn and firing blind over his shoulder.

Arthur flung himself into the mud, hand covering his head. A shot grazed his ear, and he hissed, expecting the next one to find its mark.

Silence greeted his ears, and he raised his head in disbelief to find Micah had actually fled.

"Coward!" The word ripped from his throat, bellowed into the air as he found his legs. It was only John's voice that stopped him from tearing off after the villain.

"Arthur! Arthur, we gotta go." He turned to find the younger man covered in mud and blood, leaning heavily to one side, arm wrapped around his middle as he stared Arthur down.

Arthur twitched, body turning. He needed to go after Micah, needed to finish this. He felt like a dog with an old bone, worrying until chips embedded in his gums. Intent to finish him. Get revenge for all the misery that snake had caused.

"You got him Arthur, " John's voice dropped, and Arthur felt him shuffle closer. "It's over. Please, it's over."

His shoulders dropped, like a puppet with strings cut, and he felt his brother slide a hand against his back. The plead was there, in his fingertips. Arthur heaved a sigh, feeling as it coiled from his toes, and suddenly was aware of the burning in his arm.

Arthur nodded, dropping his gaze as he let John turn him, following the slight pressure of the man's hold on him. Goddamn John Marston, his hold and his insistence that Arthur live.

An insistence that Arthur would now have to adopt he thought, as John sagged against him. His hand wound around John's waist, taking his weight. His concern only deepened as John let him without fighting.

The horses were waiting just inside the stable door, Buell poking his head around the wood to nicker at their approach. Ears flicked forward as he clicked to him, and both horses trotted out.

Arthur stopped him from trying to stumble to Old Boy, instead pulling him towards Buell. "You’re not fit to ride, John. You’re ridin with me."

"Arthur, no," John struggled away from him, trying to stand straight. Arthur didn't miss the red handprint he left on Buell's flank. "Rabbit ran, Arthur. We gotta go get her."

Arthur's mouth pressed into a hard line. "We gotta get you patched up, John. C'mon." He lifted his arms to grab the front and back of the saddle, effectively trapping John. The man either had to get on the horse, or go through Arthur.

For once in his life, John chose wisely, and let Arthur help him up on the horse. His lips twitched as if he realized he had let the older man win. His heart thundered when Arthur left him for a moment, long legs eating up the ground. He disappeared into the hotel, and John found himself staring around the town, too weak to even pull out the revolver at his hip. Some gunslinger he was now.

His heart didn't quit thundering at Arthur's reemergence, one arm carrying satchels stuffed to bursting.

"Found the hotel manager passed out on the floor," he said as he stuffed an old rifle under the saddle seat and looped the satchels around the horn.

John should have scoffed, the sound was stirring under his ribs at the weak attempt of Arthur's humor, but his appreciation died as Arthur mounted up behind him and clicked for Old Boy's attention before setting heels to the giant Dutch Warmblood monster he called a horse.

His side felt like it was on fire, but his limbs felt cold. He sagged against Arthur, head falling back as the man cursed and shouted at the horses, pushing them into a hard gallop as they tore out of town and hit the forest, following the angle of the canyon.

\-------------------------------------------

When John woke up, he was off the horse, hidden in the brush. Branches were pulled in front of him, and he was tucked into a little hollow dug out quickly .

He tried to sit up, but a flash of fire rushed up his side and he gasped, hand touching it to find bandages wrapped under his shirt. They were bulky, and when he ran his fingers over his torso they were irregular and bulgy.

"What hellish concoction did you put on my wound, Arthur?" His voice croaked, and a soft wicker answered.

He glanced over and saw Old Boy blinking dolefully back, the horse hobbled and relaxing on the ground.

"You got stashed too, huh?" Other than shaking out his mane, the horse didn't answer. John dropped back down, huffing as he peered out between the branches. He was turning into Arthur, talking to his horse.

Hoofbeats thundered over the earth, and he froze, breath soft, until a flash of cream glinting in the sun crested the horizon and he saw the tilt of Arthur's hat as he turned the horse to the tree line farther away, the long barrel of his bolt action rifle waving above his shoulder.

He'd circle back around. John waited, seeing if anyone else crested the ridge. He doubted it, Arthur was scary accurate when it came to sniping. He'd seen him tag people at 600 yards, in the rain, through trees. It didn't matter, he'd hit true every time.

He hated the waiting though. The sun slowly moved across the sky, but he knew better than to try to move. If Arthur even suspected he moved, he'd hear an earful, and probably find himself tied over a horse instead of riding the next time they moved. And they needed to move, needed to go find Rabbit before she got killed.

Muffled hoofbeats. Finally. When he turned his head, he could see Buell's legs getting closer, rags bunched over his hooves and tied at the hocks to mask his prints. When Arthur got close enough, he quickly dismounted and moved to John, hands pushing him back down into the brush.

"I didn't put all the time into hiding you to have your mangy hide bust your stitches sitting up, Marston." John let him push him back down, and Arthur peeled his shirt up, checking the bandages. He pulled one of his riding gloves off with his teeth and checked his temperature.

"No fever, not yet. How you feel?"

"Peachy," John quipped, trying to catch Arthur's eyes. The man finally moved back, hands hanging between his knees as he leaned back against a tree.

"A couple more followed us out of town, had to double back up north a little before I found this place to stash you." He pointed at Old Boy. "Your horse is a nightmare, John."

"And yours is a goddamn queen." Buell snorted as if he knew John was bad mouthing him, but he kept his eyes on Arthur. The man was still avoiding his gaze, digging for a cigarette in his satchel. John waited until he had lit it on a match struck against the side of his boot, watching as the man's shoulders relaxed after the first few puffs. "Arthur, Rabbit ran."

"So you said," he looked tired, but his words sparked confusion in John.

"Aren't you... angry?"

Arthur's lips curled around a word before he dropped it, head shaking as he answered. "John... I ain't angry at her." He took a long draw, holding in the smoke as he leaned his head back against the tree.

"But she-"

Arthur cut him off, smoke billowing out of his mouth as he kept count on his fingers, "John, we scare the living daylights out of the poor girl, kidnap her, keep her in the dark about who we are, subjected her to our company on multiple occasions-" he stopped, face like stone.

"No, let's be honest." He looked John in the eye, flicking away the cigarette and taking a deep breath. "We _forced_ her John, repeatedly. It's a wonder she only ran, and didn't go screamin for the sherif as soon as we got to town." He scuffed his boots against the ground as he shifted, eyes looking out of the brush for a moment in a sweep, eyes off John.

John flushed, shame bubbling in his gut. His first instinct was to fight it, but one thing the years had taught him, Arthur was always right, and he couldn't deny this. Hosea would probably be rolling around in his grave, thinking about what all they'd done.

"When I caught her before Micah showed up, she was scared Arthur. Scared of me... scared of something." He glanced down again, fumbling with an edge of bandage where blood had leaked through, turning it a muddled rusty brown.

"We both know she was scared of us. Ain't nothin new, John. If Micah did anything to add to it, it was just gasoline on a bonfire"

He tramped down the feeling of swallowing lead. "We need to go after her, Arthur."

Arthur's face disappeared behind his hands, palms scrubbing angrily. His voice was muffled when he answered, "I'm thinking we just let her go, John."

John felt anger push out the shame as it burned slow in his gut. "We told her we would take care of her, Arthur."

"We did," he nodded, "but then Valentine happened. The kindest thing we can do now is go in the opposite direction, lead all this... shit away from her."

"You know where she went?"

"Had to be east," Arthur looked at him like he was an idiot. John returned the stare.

"And what if the Pinkertons catch her? You may not care, Arthur, But I-"

Arthur sprang up from the tree, standing straight and stiff as he towered over John, practically vibrating as his fists curled. "Of course I care, John!" He took a few angry steps away from where John was laying, hands ripping off his hat. After a few moments, John saw him sigh.

"I care, and for that reason I gotta let her go." His voice was slow. "We ain't nothing but death, John. I can't watch her die in some firefight we stupidly get ourselves into."

When he turned back around, it was to meet John's mulish expression. The younger man set his jaw in a hard line, turning his head away, comeback dying on his tongue as he thought about it.

Arthur had sat back down, still turned away from John. "I know you don't like it, neither do I. But..." He trailed off, and John watched as he wrestled for words. Finally, he gave in.

"Let's head for Horseshoe Overlook when it gets dark, group together. Then we'll decide."

He was surprised when Arthur seemed to actually think about his words, before nodding. He kept his gaze on the prairie though, not turning to look when he heard John lay back down with a sigh.

\-----------------------------------------------

Rabbit was south of Valentine, and had she known what was up ahead, she would have turned around and took her chances west.

It took hours to skirt around Valentine. The town might have been quiet for the first hour or so after the firefight, but soon the whole place was swarming. Patrols on every road, men on horseback scouring every ditch and building this side of The Heartlands.

It was a double edged blade that sawed at her gut, carving back and forth every time she hid from a patrol. She was constantly terrified they would catch her, Arthur and Johns' words about torture ringing in her ears. It also meant at least one of the men were alive, and she tried to squash the bubble of hope in her chest that grew at the realization.

She only got a good look at a patrol once, picking out the five men as they rode only feet away from where she was hiding, holding her breath and turning blue for her efforts. It shuddered out of her once they passed, and she thanked God silently that Sugar had held still and quiet when she spotted the men.

They were definitely Pinkertons, all shiny and dressed in black and red suits. The lawmen in Valentine didn't dress that good, really no one dressed that good out here. The dust settled on them when their horses kicked it up, stylish mustaches wilting in the sun. Shiny guns glinting as they transferred them over and over from shoulder to lap to cradled, heads swiveling at the slightest sound.

_Dogs would've been easier to get around_ , she thought viciously, lamenting the fact that her old rifle had been in the hotel room. Hell, everything had been in the hotel room. Probably was still there, useless and unobtainable unless she wanted to risk going into Valentine.

Another patrol passing assured her that she in fact, did not want to risk it.

She ended up doubling back, all the way to the Dakota River. She had half a mind to travel up it instead of down. It would bring her closer to the upper mountain road, but she'd be climbing the cliffs at night.

She bit her lip, glanced back over her shoulder to check for patrols, and then moved into the open. She urged Sugar into a fast trot once they reached the road, following the river south as it curled around east, widening and moving slower the closer it got to Flat Iron Lake.

It was pretty country, she could admit that, even when it was swarming with folks. The rock formations towered over the tree studded canyon, deer jumped out from the shallows of the river and raced across green grass. Ducks could be heard, quacking at the water's edge.

Her stomach gave a grumble at the thought of roasted duck, and Sugar's ears flicked backwards at the sound. Rabbit grimaced, patting the side of her horse's neck in apology. "Sorry, girl, can't stop for food yet. I promise though when we get home I'll give you every carrot I can find."

The horse nickered like she actually understood, head bobbing as she quickened her trot. It pulled a laugh out of Rabbit as she tugged on the reins to slow her back down. "I appreciate the eagerness, but too fast and we'll get caught, then there's no more carrots ever."

She passed Caliban's Seat sometime after noon, and pondered how the hell anyone thought it resembled a seat. It distracted her from her true choice, whether to continue down the river or take the road that led out of the canyon. She closed her eyes, trying to picture the map she had seen Arthur pull out once, firelight flickering over the planes of his face as he checked their position.

She shook the image away violently. If she left the canyon, she decided, she'd still be too close to Valentine. She turned Sugar to the right, keeping to the river a little longer.

Voices behind her. A quick glance over her shoulder showed two men, smartly dressed, their heads turned towards her. She held her breath for a second, but cursed as they set called out.

"Miss!"

She debated, then set heels to Sugar, giving the horse her head as she bent low over her neck. Sound of voices behind, shouts lost in the clatter of hooves as they tore off after her.

Her chances were pretty good of outrunning them, since their horses were heavy war horses and hers was a courser, but that thought died as a shot rang out, whizzing past her shoulder and startling Sugar.

Now the horse was truly running, ears pinned back in fright and Rabbit matching her expression as another shot rang out through the air, and a tree in front of her exploded, wood chips peppering her as she sped past.

She screamed, voice echoing as horse and rider pelted off the main road, taking a path that branched off and headed up a gentle rise into some trees. If she could get past the trees, get to the prairie, Sugar could really let loose and get them beyond firing distance.

She tore up the slope, pushing Sugar as the horse's breathing turned labored. Another shot grazed her shoulder, the round hitting the ground in front of her even as she jerked in the opposite direction, a cry escaping as the meat above her clavicle burned.

Two shots, quick succession, erupted from the trees in front of her. They whizzed by on either side of her head, and she heard the distressed sounds of horses behind her.

She pulled Sugar up sharply, the horse locking her back legs and skidding to a stop, ears forward and neck bowed. Rabbit turned to see the two horses behind her running away, one dragging off a corpse who's leg was still stuck in the stirrup. The other unlucky man was laying face down in the dirt, his limps at awkward angles.

"You alright, miss?" The deep voice had her whipping around again, feeling like ten kinds of fool as a man stepped out from the shadows of a tree, gait easy and slow, rifle up over his shoulder.

He was an Indian, had to be, at least partly. Rabbit stared at him, taking in the shaved head, beads at his throat. The calico design of his shirt and wide cheek bones made her think of the plains tribes to the north, but he spoke different than they did.

As sure as she was sizing him up, he was returning the favor. Rabbit shook her head, chastising herself. She didn't use to be this wary of strangers.

"I'm fine, sir." She looked back at the dead man. "Thank you. I think they meant to kill me."

He nodded, not looking over at the body. His eyes strayed up to her shoulder. "You got medical supplies, miss?" He motioned towards his own shoulder to draw attention to her own.

"Oh, it's ok, it's just a gr-" She cut off when she tilted her head down to look at it, and the world went funny at the edges.

Warm blood trailed over her shoulder, staining her yellow shirt with rust as it went. A quarter sized hole pierced the fabric, and a piece of raw flesh dangled like a flap.

"Ooh," the sound was involuntary, and she sagged in the saddle, fuzzy grayness eating at her vision. The stranger stepped forward quickly and caught her as she dropped from the saddle like a bag of potatoes, arms solid as he pulled her into a sitting position and palmed the back of her head, forcing it down.

"Close you eyes, breathe. That's it, just breathe." He instructed, hands moving away to give her space. When she finally looked up again, he was sitting in the dirt beside her, lips curled into a small smile.

"First time seeing blood?"

Her thoughts flickered back to the night in the cabin, when Arthur had washed the evidence of her virginity and his rough handling off with a cold, damp cloth. She mentally pushed away the memory, lead curling in her stomach at their unknown fate. "Not exactly."

He pursed his lips. "I'm traveling with a woman. Would you let me stitch you up if you saw her first?"

She blinked in surprise. "You deal with skittish women a lot, mister?" Mentally she kicked herself as the John-ish line slipped out.

His face remained passive, "you _do_ look pretty skittish."

She grimaced, then nodded, trying to stand.

He glided to his feet, and gave a low, two note whistle.

Rabbit looked up and saw a woman in a yellow shirt, dirty blonde hair braided over her shoulder, step out of the shadows the man had come from. She had a rifle as well, cradled in her arms, but she simply nodded and stood at the edge of the trees.

Rabbit squinted. "Well she just fills me up with confidence." When she glanced at the man, he was quickly wiping away an upturn tilt of his mouth.

"My name is Charles," he offered, then held out his hand. "Will you please let me take a look at that shoulder?"

Rabbit worried her lip as she looked at the hand, waiting for it to bite. When he kept it level and unassuming, and her shoulder started burning, she heaved a sigh and gave the only name she had as she dropped her hand into his to shake.

"I'm Rabbit." If Charles thought anything of her name, he kept it to herself. As he led her back to the woman waiting at the tree line, Sugar following slowly behind, a spark of flint on wood resounded in her mind. Charles. Where had she heard that name before?

Finally, she shrugged. Must be a pretty common name.

When they reached the woman, Rabbit understood why she kept a distance. Her face was hard, like it was carved by stone. The lines around her eyes and mouth spoke of little joy, and her eyes razed everything they peered upon.

Rabbit felt like shrinking as those eyes turned on her. "Charles, who's this?"

Charles hand slid to her back as she tensed. "Sadie, this is Rabbit."

Again the name sparked something inside Rabbit's mind, but she tried ignored it as Charles led her through the trees until they came to a wide clearing. She was tired, that's all, making her question every piece of information.

The clearing ran right to the edge of the cliffs, and she could see evidence of camps from long ago. A small fire was lit off to the side, two horses munching on the long grass a little ways off.

She let Charles pull her towards the fire, admiring the view. "Sure got a pretty picture to look at." She mumbled. It was Sadie who answered.

"I don't have fond memories of the place, but a Horseshoe Overlook is pretty picturesque. So Charles tells me." The savage curl to her words spoke of pain.

She stopped mid stride at Sadie's words, her face twisting up as she realized what a fool she was, eyes flicking between Charles, Sadie, and then the distance to Sugar.

Charles had paused with her, eyes concerned as they settled on her face.

"Rabbit, you ok?"

She tried to play it off, taking a slight step away from him, back to their horse. "Yea, ya know. I think I'll just leave you guys alone."

"But your wound-"

"I'll take care of it when I get home," she took another step, eyes not leaving Charles as she backed towards Sugar. It was a mistake, she found out, when it was Sadie that pointed the rifle at her, and not him.

"What set you off, Rabbit?" It wasn't a question, not really, but the charged sound of the shotgun in her hands being pumped was enough to make Rabbit freeze like her namesake as it was leveled at her.

Charles didn't object, his own hand falling to the gun at his waist as he waited for her to answer.

"Excuse me?" Her voice squeaked, panic setting in as she realized if she didn't get away soon she'd be worse than back to square one.

Sadie and Charles both watched her, figures tightening as she took yet another step.

"Stop, girl." Sadie snapped. "Charles, tie her up. We'll figure out what to do with her when..." She paused, glancing at Charles meaningfully, "we group up."

Charles pulled out a loop of rope from the bag laid out by the fire, but neither he nor Sadie expected Rabbit's next move. She did what any rabbit would do in this situation. She bolted as soon as their attention wavered.

The irony was not lost on her, as she scrambled for Sugar for the second time that day with an angry man on her heels.

She made it exactly three steps before Charles caught her. She struggled for exactly two seconds in his arms before he clocked her on the back of her head with his sawed off shotgun.

She dropped to the ground bonelessly, the darkness pulling her under as Charles face swam above her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaand another cliffhanger. Cue my escape.


	3. Fallen Idols

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is your captain speaking. Please remember to bring your tissues in the case of unexpected angst, hold on because our forecast fortells a whiplash of emotions. And as always please keep your arms and legs inside the moving vehicle at all times. 
> 
> And just remember I promised a happy ending.

Arthur was never so glad to see a campfire as he spotted the huddled figures of Charles and Sadie at the edge of the trees near Horseshoe Overlook. No even finding out Dutch and the others had survived on Guarma compared to the elated feeling in his gut as he urged Buell forward, one hand trailing behind his back to lead Old Boy.

It had been one hell of a day, but getting to this point crossed off a marker in his head, his mind already looking at the step ahead of them. Getting over the mountains would be harder than the first time they had crossed earlier in the years. Snows would be coming down thick, not thawing for a spring. Still, one step at a time, he reminded himself. If anyone could do it, it would be this group of people that fate just couldn't seem to kill.

A moan behind him had him twisting a little, squinting into the darkness to make sure his cargo hadn't tumbled from the saddle. Again.

John was slumped over his horse's neck, mumbling incoherently as he slipped in and out of consciousness. He didn't have a fever, Arthur had been checking regularly, but sometime during the afternoon his body had slipped into lockdown mode, overloaded with the adrenaline and coping with his wound.

Arthur admitted it would have almost been comical any other time, especially because it was Marston, but watching his eyes roll back in his head as he slumped over while they were outrunning Pinkertons did nothing but cause Arthur worry, a headache, and probably an ulcer.

He had almost dropped from the saddle when he did it, causing Old Boy's reins to jerk as the horse's head was pulled at an awkward angle. Arthur had cursed as the gelding had turned himself in a circle, ears pinned and angry eyes settling on Buell, as if he was sure it was his nemesis's fault. Not that the gelding could actually hurt the bigger stud, but Arthur didn't want to be in the saddle when Buell decided to flex his muscle.

It had taken Arthur considerable time to calm him down enough to check on John, time that was spent on edge because _of course_ John couldn't have dropped in a secluded, well hidden area. No, he had to go down in the middle of a field, within sighting distance of a main road, leaving Arthur scrambling to make sure he he was alright.

Shaking his head, Arthur checked Buell for a second and gave a low, two note whistle, watching as the heads near the fire perked up at the sound and turn towards him as he swung down from Buell's saddle. His muscles were stiff, bones achy and tendons rebelling the sudden movement, but Arthur gritted his teeth and forced himself through the motions. He knew he would recover, eventually. Might not be as good at beating men to death with his fists as he was before Guarma, but as long as he could shoot and haul Marston's ass around he figured he'd be fine.

Charles met him first, form turning to shadow as he moved from the flickering firelight. Arthur was surprised to receive a firm hug from the man. Charles was usually so taciturn, withholding himself from even those he considered friends.

This whole thing was eating people up. He could feel the last two weeks gnawing at his insides, turning his stomach into a ball of mush. Being on the run was something he was used to, but now instead of just being an enforcer he was a leader. Arthur knew these people looked up to him, depended on him, trusted him. He'd already failed John, and...

He returned Charles pat on the back, turning to pull John's limp form off his horse. He grunted as the man fell into his arms, his dead weight causing Arthur to grit his teeth as his knotted muscles protested. "Have any trouble getting here?" He let Charles take John's other side, when really he just wanted to toss him over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes and haul him to the fire.

The voice that answered him was firm and measured, but pitched at quite a lower volume than Arthur expected. "No, no trouble. Had to help a farmer round up his sheep, but the poor man was nearly blind. Didn't notice our faces, or the posters aren't out yet."

"A blind sheep farmer," Arthur scoffed as they lowered John next to the fire. He reached out to grasp the arm Sadie offered, her small bones shifting under his grip. He dropped onto the ground, head hanging low as he soaked up the fire's warmth, watching as Charles checked John over, pausing at the wound on his side.

"Stayed at Valentine for a night, waiting on that letter. Micah showed up, John was stuck out on the street with him before I could get there." He offered as way of explanation, slowly letting himself relax against the log behind him as he dug for the letter. "Hosea was damned cryptic in this letter. It's gonna take a smarter man than me to figure it all out."

He held it out to Sadie, who glanced curiously over its contents before holding it at an angle for Charles to read as he went about changing John's bandages. Arthur leaned forward to peer at the wound, unassumingly small. It was ringed with red, but all things considered seemed a clean shot. Arthur hadn't had to dig too much to get the bullet out. He had stuffed it full of ginseng, hoping the plant worked without having to ingest it.

Charles prodded around the wound, nodding to Arthur as he pressed the herb back against the skin and started tying on a strip of semi clean linen. A hiss from John had all three looking at his face as brown eyes, hazy with sleep and pain, glared back at them.

"Thought I'd died and gone to hell, kept hearing Arthur grumble at me. Thought that was eternity."

Arthur rolled his eyes, falling back at John's words. "Oh, he's fine Charles." He waved a hand in John's direction, digging for a cigarette to hide the relief he knew would be shifting across his face. Lighting it and taking a puff, he glanced around at the old campsite.

If he wanted, he could almost hear the echoes of people moving around, ghosts tending to fires and mending clothes, strutting between tents with a beer in hand. Drunken singing, voices raised together in celebration.

He puffed quietly, watching as Sadie and Charles shared a look. Whatever was eatin at them, Sadie was trying to prod Charles to bring it up. Arthur hid a smile at the thought that anyone prodding Charles to do anything would actually work.

"What is it?" His gruff voice cut over the flames, and both of them grimaced, looking away from one another like they'd been caught red handed in the middle of a heist.

"We have a problem," Sadie finally said softly, and Arthur pursed his lips at her dark tone.

"What kinda problem?" If they wanted him to pull teeth, by God Arthur would pull teeth. He didn't like it one bit, wasn't in his nature, but if it was bothering both of them it had to be bad.

Charles ran a hand over his face, drawing Arthur's gaze. "We picked up a straggler. Young girl, knew who we were."

"She was actin funny," Sadie added.

Arthur sucked in a breath, staring at his cigarette for a moment. "Where is she now?" His eyes tracked left to right, but didn't see anyone else near the campfire.

"Tied up to a tree over there," Charles pointed. "Wouldn't tell us anything, scared to death."

Arthur nodded his head, bitterness creeping into his tone, "most women are scared to death of us." He could feel John's eyes on him, but refused to look over. He could see him fingering the bandage again out of the corner of his eye. Probably should point it out to him, would make him a shit poker player.

"Alrighty then," he paused, unsure. "Let's wait till morning, sort it out then. Maybe we can just cut her loose and ride off. She have a horse?"

Sadie nodded, "little mountain horse, Nokota. Ain't good for much other than running."

Charles cut in, "we'll have to scare it off, she could be to Saint Denis by noon with something like it."

Arthur silently agreed, even though the thought of leaving someone without their horse ate at him. "You gag her, Charles?"

"Had to," he grumbled back, not giving more information beyond a grimace when Arthur raised his brows.

In the end, he crushed the cigarette under his boot and stood to grab his and John's bedrolls. "Well, it can wait till morning then. Let's get some sleep, the horses'll tell us if someone gets close." It was a risk, but they'd all need sleep if they were gonna get over the mountains.

"I'll stay up," Sadie offered, "I don't sleep much anymore." Grim humor twisted her lips.

Arthur struggled not to feel sympathy, knowing she'd see it as pity. Sadie hadn't found the peace she had sought at Hanging Dog Ranch. Arthur told her it would take time. Neither one was sure about that claim in the end.

John was already asleep again when Charles and Arthur lifted him enough to slide the bedroll underneath him, grumbling as Arthur shifted his head into a comfortable position.

Arthur flopped back onto his bedroll, hat left to his side so he could wake with the sun. With his eyes closed, he cold hear the soft snore of John as he breathed through his nose, the click of Sadie cleaning her rifle. The crackle of the fire, the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. He dropped off as a coyote yipped under the cover of the forest, rustling through the brush as it chased its meal.

Arthur woke just as the sun was nodding its way above the horizon, the morning air hazy with fog colored red and gold with light. He laid there for a moment, eyes flitting around his companions' faces as he got his bearings.

Charles had his face hidden in his arms, crossed to make a pillow as his long legs stretched out behind him. John was still snoring softly, a sound Arthur had fallen asleep to for the past year, curled up around his side like he couldn't lay straight. Sadie was dreaming fitfully, limbs twitching where she was slumped by the fire, arm still holding the rifle.

She woke with a start when Arthur shifted to a sitting position, hands unhurriedly filling the percolator and adding the ground coffee. He measured it to be extra strong, eyes finally raising as he sat back, waiting for the water to boil.

"Sleep good, Morgan?" Sadie rasped, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. When Arthur gave her a questioning look, she elaborated. "You were talking in your sleep."

Didn't take a genius to figure out what it probably was. Arthur grunted, standing and turning to the woods. "It's been a long couple of days, Sadie."

When he came back from relieving himself, Sadie handed him a cup of coffee. Arthur took it, taking a small sip and humming in appreciation as the hot liquid slid down his throat.

"You were muttering about a rabbit." Sadie said out of the blue, causing Arthur to snap his head towards her. She had a frown on her face, but it had nothing on his. He could kick himself, angry because that would be the one thing he'd sleep talk about. Goddamnit.

"It ain't important, Sadie." He said softly, giving her the same look she'd give him on multiple occasions of prying into her past. He moved off to Buell, fishing a carrot out of the saddle bag to give the horse.

As he ran his hand across the cream colored coat, he heard Sadie move behind him. "Listen, Arthur, I don't mean to pry, but it's important. The girl-"

A nicker interrupted them, another, smaller horse moving towards Arthur as velvet lips nibbled at his cloth covered arm, searching for a treat. A familiar saddle was draped over her roan back, her dark mane French braided and tied off with a pink ribbon that Arthur distinctly remembered.

Arthur froze as Sugar nudged him again, certain that he had a treat in his hand, before he turned quickly to Sadie.

"Where's the girl you caught?" His sharp question was loud enough to wake Charles, the man letting out a loud snort as his head popped up, eyes trying to find the threat.

Arthur hardly waited for Sadie to point before he was moving in the direction her eyes had flickered, Sugar's annoyed snort following him. He threw the coffee on the ground and tossed the cup near his bedroll as he passed, aware Sadie was a step behind and Charles was staring.

When he saw the small figure tied to the tree, head slumped over and turned away from the sun, the breath shattered out of his lungs.

\---------------------------------------------------------

Rabbit was dreaming. She knew it had to be a dream.

_She was back in the cabin with Arthur and John, the world hazy around its edges as they rested in front of the fire. John was softly stroking her hair, trying to lull her to sleep. Arthur had his head bent over a map, eyes tracking a path he made with his fingers, lips silently moving._

_"I'm glad we found you, Rabbit." John whispered in her hair. Something sticky brushed against her cheek, and she hummed, trying to wipe it off as he moved away._

_When she glanced down at her hand as she rolled the stickiness between her fingers, her heart stopped, staring at the blood as it shone in the firelight. When she whipped around to face John, struggling in his arms, she cried out loud._

_John smiled, blood dripping down from his lips. There was a rope burn around his neck. When she pushed away from him, her hand slipped into the bullet hole on his side. She shrieked, but the Dream John simply threw his head back and gave that bark of a laugh, blood spilling out of his chest to hit her face._

_"Something wrong, Rabbit?" Arthur's voice, but wrong. Too raspy, not the deep drawl she was used to. Rabbit turned to him, but swallowed thickly at the sight he presented._

_His throat was gone, shirt slick with blood as she stared at the raw, jagged wound. He blinked calmly, eyes glazed like the dead staring back at her._

Hands were on her shoulders, someone pulling her forward as a presence surrounded her. The sound of a knife being drawn filtered through the dream.

She woke up screaming around the gag, thrashing to throw her attacker off. Hands tightened to the point of pain, holding her to the tree as someone sawed through the ropes binding her. She bucked, eyes opening to see Arthur's grim face above her.

His countenance did nothing to soothe her. She wiggled in his grasp, throwing her weight against his arm. He was forced to drop the knife she saw glinting in the corner of her eye, other hand coming up to pull at the gag.

"Rabbit, Rabbit, you're ok." His fingers gave up as she pulled her head away. He simply wrapped his arms around her, crushing her against his chest as he was pushed back by her kicking legs. He landed on his ass, lips brushing against her hair as he surrounded her. "I'm not gonna hurt you, darlin'. No one is gonna hurt you."

She shook her head in denial, hands clawing at his shirt, trying to push away. His arms locked, still murmuring and shooshing her as she shuddered. His arms were strong, firm under her fingers as she grabbed at him, voice deep and alive, chest moving with every breath he took. His heart strong and loud underneath her ear.

If asked, Rabbit wouldn't be able to tell when her blows changed from trying to get away from Arthur to trying to get closer. She plastered herself to him, her muffled cries changing to sobs and her fingers curled into his shirt.

His hand smoothed down her hair, voice muffled as he said, "I'm gonna get this gag off now, darlin'. Stay still." She felt her head shift, thick fingers working at the knot she had slobbered on and tried to chew through all night. He finally got it loose, pulling it from her lips, and she gulped in a big breath of air as he tucked his cheek against the top of her head.

"I thought you were dead," she whispered, voice small against his throat.

He shook his head, then caught hers as she started and tried to pull back.

"Where's John?"

"He's alive," he answered, "he's ok."

They sat like that for a long moment, Arthur softly petting her hair, before Rabbit stiffened.

"I'm not angry, Rabbit." He rumbled as she burrowed into his chest. "I'm just surprised you didn't do more, after everything we did to you." His breath shuttered out of him, chest rising and pushing under her hands. Her palm turned and pressed above his heart. "I'm so... sorry, darlin'."

She was stunned, never hearing this much emotion in his voice before, but his apology had an unexpected effect, unknown emotion coiling in her throat. "Arthur."

"Let me finish," he rasped against her ear, bringing forth a shiver. It caused him to pull back, hands framing her face. His eyes tracked over her features, hands rubbing against the raw skin from the gag. "Are you alright?"

As she stared up at him, the coil of emotion bubbled up and manifested as anger, bright and so hot it made her teeth ache. "Am I alright?" She snarled at him, hands balling into fists before she brought one back and struck his chest. "Am I _alright_?!"

"Rabbit," he grabbed at her wrists with one of his hands, but Rabbit spat at the command in his voice, limbs tearing through his hold.

"No, you let me finish!" God, it felt good to throw his lines back at him, even if it made his face darken like a thundercloud had passed overhead. "You kidnap me, run me halfway across the state! Every time I turn around one of you is looming over me and God forbid I ask where we're going!" She hit him again, and this time he managed to grab her arm, pinning it behind her back as she struggled in his grip, face rearing back to meet his glare.

"I nearly die in a gun battle, finally get away and then what? Then what? I spend hours dodging stupid Pinkertons, and the whole time the only thing I can worry about is if you or John are dead." She was crying, she could feel the tears on her cheeks. For some reason though, she couldn't stop the torrent of words that flowed out of her mouth. She blinked away the liquid obscuring her vision, feeling a flash of satisfaction at the stunned look on Arthur's face. "That's all I'm worried about, till I'm sick with it. Not getting caught by the law, not relief I'm finally free! I catch myself hoping you actually catch up with me, just so that awful feeling would go away!" She shook under his hold, self disgust roiling in her gut.

"I don't know how this happened," she whispered, needing the words out. "I was terrified you were both dead, and I'd never see you again." Her expression scrunched up. The fight bled out, and she let Arthur pull her closer, tucking her head underneath his chin. "You ruined me, Arthur."

He froze at her last words, muscles locking under her cheek. Her eyes slid shut, squeezing them tight as if that could stop the tears. His hand lifted to the back of her head again, fingers carding through her locks as if he was trying to calm her.

It seemed she had shocked him into silence. Rabbit didn't seem to have the same problem. She tugged a hand away from him, a little surprised he let her, and ran it down his arm. She paused when she found the bandage. "You're injured."

His chest rumbled under her, "you gonna pick between being angry at me or concerned, Rabbit?"

"I haven't decided, yet."

He nodded as if she was actually making any lick of sense.

She sat in his embrace, worrying her bottom lip as she tried to keep her next words inside. Finally, though, they broke free. "That man in Valentine," she waited until he nodded to continue, "he said a lot of awful things about you and John, Arthur."

"Probably all true," there was self deprecating humor in his rumble.

Ash sat on her tongue, but she forced herself to whisper. "You really burned a family alive?"

"God, Rabbit, no!" At least he was shocked, muscles bunching under his shirt. His head reared back, face slack with shock at the accusation. "You really think we could do that?"

She shrugged, suddenly tired of all the things she was just suppose to know. "I don't know, Arthur, you never told me anything other than you weren't good men." She thought. "And honest."

"Then I'll be honest with you." He answered back, letting go and letting her slip back so he could look into her eyes. "You settle down, come sit by the fire, and I'll tell you everything." He broke the stare first, fingers finding the bit of rope on her wrist and pulling it off. "Owe you that much." It sounded like the mumble was more for him than her, but she still heard it.

The sun glinted through the trees, casting his face in gold as she stared up at him, trying to catch his eye again. Finally, she nodded, "ok."

A breath sawed out of him, tension leaving as he helped her to her feet. Rabbit glanced at a flabbergasted Sadie as she let Arthur lead her to the fire, a little embarrassed at the way she broke down in front of her.

Sadie didn't offer any words however, just followed silently behind them, though Rabbit caught her staring at the back of Arthur's head like she could pry answers from it. Good luck with that.

When she saw John, she made an involuntary noise, breaking free of Arthur's grip to crouch next to him. Charles glanced from where he had been rewrapping his wound, a question in his eyes as they went to Arthur then to her.

Arthur shook his head, picking up his cup again and filling it with more coffee, digging in his satchel for a package of buscuits. He passed them both to Rabbit after making a noise to get her attention, dragging it away from the injured man.

She sat next to John, her back pressed against his legs, as she nibbled on a biscuit, waiting for Arthur to speak.

He was staring off in the woods, eyes watching leaves as they rustled in the wind and fell to the earth. Rabbit thought he looked almost peaceful, like a weight was lifting from his shoulders. Then he began to speak, and that weight came crashing back.

"You ever heard of Dutch's Boys, Rabbit?" He glanced at her, and she shook her head.

Charles quickly stood and walked off to the horses. Arthur watched him go for a moment, not saying anything.

Sadie plopped down on the other side of the fire, digging out a can of beans and sticking a knife through the top, the sound cutting through the quiet. She set them near the fire, and Arthur continued like it was the signal he'd been waiting for.

"I was the original Dutch's Boy. He picked me up real young, must've been fourteen or fifteen-"

"Who?" Rabbit interrupted.

"Dutch Van der Linde," Sadie answered, going through the motions of cleaning her rifle. "Delusional Outlaw Gang Leader."

"He weren't always like that, Sadie." Arthur countered, then turned back to Rabbit. "He and Hosea, they taught me everything I know. How to act, how to ride, how to read and shoot." He paused. "We weren't always bad, used to help people in the beginning. Still tried to, over the years. Then Blackwater happened, earlier this year." His mouth set into a hard line at the last sentence.

Rabbit opened her mouth, but he beat her to it. "Before you go askin, no, I don't know exactly what happened. But it started a whole chain of events that included the Pinkertons chasin us east. We started taking bigger and bigger risks, all in the name of getting free. Eventually, everything caught up to us."

Rabbit stayed quiet, thinking. After a moment, when it seemed Arthur had stopped, she questioned, "the night before we got to Valentine, John said Dutch went crazy."

"John and I don't agree on everything," Arthur replied, "but in that instance it's the only way to explain what happen. Camp got torn apart, people shootin each other, Pinkertons shootin each other. Those that could get out, did. And the rest... Well you were there for it."

"And the family burnt to death?" It was the one thing that still bothered her.

"Only one burnt to death," he casually threw out, causing her to choke on her coffee. "There was a girl in the camp, named Mary-Beth." His voice darkened, eyes watching as Rabbit took in the information. "Old woman, had seven sons. Thought selling the girl to a pervert in Saint Denis would be a good way to get rid of us. So we rode to her house in the dead of night, shot her sons, and burnt her house, yes." His voice dropped to a rumble the further he got. "That old woman walked herself into those flames, but had I seen what happened to Mary-Beth first, I probably would've thrown her in head first, Rabbit."

The sounds of the woods around Horseshoe Overlook dominated the silence that followed, punctuated by the scrape of metal against metal as Sadie used the flat of her knife to eat beans. Rabbit watched her for a moment, almost afraid to look at Arthur. Not because of the venom in his voice, but because he might see the acceptance in her own.

I should probably be running, she thought as she gulped the last of the coffee. But it felt so good to be back with them again. It should have been scary, this hold the two outlaws had over her. Instead, it just felt like she belonged. When she thought about leaving again, acid sat in her stomach. No, for better or worse, Rabbit was with them now.

She turned to John, trying to keep the emotion that came with her thought process off her face. She watched as his chest rose and fell, a little surprised he was still asleep. When Arthur shifted as if he might get up and walk away, she blurted out, "where are we headed now?"

"We?" It was almost comical, the way his eyebrows leapt up his head as he settled back down. "Rabbit, you don't have-"

"Where else am I gonna go?" She threw his line back at him, lips twitching as she caught Sadie huffing back a laugh on the other side of the fire.

"Got yourself another stray, Morgan." She pointed the knife at him before eating the beans balancing on the edge.

Arthur didn't take his eyes from Rabbit though, and while she wasn't expecting him to be jumping for joy over her decision, she didn't expect the sadness that crept into the edges of his eyes. "You sure, Rabbit?" He left the rest unspoken, but she could see the rigid way he carried himself, that he was referring to her past treatment.

She nodded, not breaking eye contact, relieved inside when he didn't push the issue or bring anything up in front of Sadie. Though judging by the woman's look she had put most of two and two together.

Charles had wandered back over, fingering a sheaf of parchment between his fingers. "Arthur," he said slowly, as if hesitant of interrupting anything. When Arthur waved him in though, he hunkered down between Rabbit and Sadie and waved the parchment in the air. "I think I figured out Hosea's notes."

Arthur quickly pulled out a piece of thick paper, folded over many times, from inside his jacket and started opening it, revealing the map from Rabbit's dream. Her eyes flickered to his throat real quick, fighting off a shiver and taking another bite of biscuit.

Charles laid the letter in the corner of the map, finger pointing to a specific line. "I think he left runes along the path." His finger traveled to an area left of Valentine. "We should find the first one here, northwest of Strawberry."

Arthur nodded, then pulled back as Rabbit scooted closer to him to peer at the map. "We're headed here," he whispered for her, finger tapping at a state beyond the mountains, nestled with the mountains in the west and what looked like plains in the east. "It's a pretty enough place, been through there before. Not a lot of people or towns, mostly trappers and farmers."

"Sierra Nevada." Rabbit sounded out, setting her coffee aside. Her eyes traveled south of it, seeing the severe straight lines of Wichita, and then to the west North Herbershire. "Herbershire?"

"Lots of Germans," Sadie said, as if that answered the question.

"And Wichita is where most of the Southeastern Indians ended up," Charles added. "Not a lot of law in those parts." His grin was shared with most of the others around the fire.

Arthur twisted his head around, checking the sun as it finally made its way over the horizon. "We need to mount up, get a move on. It'll take most of the day to get around Valentine. I think we need to head south. Cross the river and head down to the Upper Montana before heading back north. We can follow the river most of the way, then see if we can't use some of the hunting tracks near Mount Shann, avoid the town completely."

Charles and Sadie glanced at one another, then nodded. "Could work," Sadie murmured, then raised her voice. "But it'll take a while."

"It's not what they expect." Arthur argued, but she quickly nodded, hand making a placating gesture.

"I agree with you, Arthur. Just voicing the obvious."

Charles grabbed the percolator and dumped the leftover coffee over the fire, smothering it. "Let's git then."

Arthur caught Rabbit's attention as the others moved to start packing. "I've got your stuff, Rabbit." He nodded at John. "Why don't you wake him, let him know you're here. I'll go put your stuff on your horse." He moved out of her reach, standing and rolling his shoulders before moving off to Buell.

Rabbit leaned over John, pursing her lips before reaching out and patting John's cheek firmly. "John, Arthur says get up." She kept the hand on his face, rubbing it against the scars on his cheek.

John cracked an eye open, still sleep glazed. "Rabbit?" He blinked repeatedly, hand raising to his forehead before he moved it to her face, running a hand down her cheek. "What're you doin here?"

"Couldn't get away," she whispered back, watching his reaction, and feeling relieved when he snorted instead of getting angry.

Rabbit stayed still as he stroked her skin. "I must be dreamin." A small smile. "Never thought I'd see those pretty eyes again."

Rabbit snorted at the compliment, hand checking his forehead for fever. Finding none, she simply chalked it up to his sense of humor. He was still stroking her face softly, gaze riveted on hers.

Rabbit had less experience dealing with this side of John, being soft was something he usually left for the wee hours of the morning. It felt good though, like pieces were sliding back into a puzzle, lifting a weight from her heart.

"John, come get your mangy horse before I shoot it!" Arthur's enraged snarl caused both of them to look over, spotting Arthur trapped between the two horses as Old Boy tried to bite at Buell. His hands were firmly clenched on the side of each horses' bridles, using his bulk to shoulder them away from each other.

"Guess I'm not dreamin," John grumbled, making no effort to go help the other man.

"I'm sorry, John." Her apology brought his eyes back to her, a frown pulling at the lines across his face.

"Bunny, you ain't got nothing to be sorry for." He framed her face with his hands, wincing as he lifted his arm, to shake her head gently back and forth. He kept up the motion until a she gave him a small smile. "Now," he glanced again at Arthur, letting his hands slip down her neck and back to his sides, "let's go help him before he actually shoots my horse."

John got up slowly, and Rabbit gritted her teeth in sympathy as it tore a groan from him. His hand was clamped firmly on the bandage wrapped around his side, but when Rabbit peeked she saw no blood.

He whistled to Old Boy, and the horse practically jerked Arthur's arm out of his socket as it turned and trotted to him. He greeted him with a sugar cube, letting the agitated gelding have a few extra to calm him down.

Rabbit left his side to move towards Arthur, getting close enough to pick out the last of the curse words he threw after the animal as he rubbed at his arm.

"You ready, Rabbit?" He finally looked at her, head ducked down as she stepped near.

"Yes," and she went up on tippy toes, the affection from John buzzing in her veins, intending to kiss him.

Hands caught her hips, holding her a little away. His eyes skittered away, expression shuttered. "You don't have to do that, darlin'."

She gave him a confused look, a kernel of doubt in her stomach. "I thought-"

He was already shaking his head, frowning. "I ain't gonna force young more, Rabbit. It's a grave I ain't gonna dig deeper." His hands framed her face for a moment before he spoke again. "We'll keep you safe, that promise still stands. But you ain't gotta be with me or John. Now, go mount up." He extracted himself gently, dipping his hat towards her before moving to mount Buell without looking back.

Sugar nipped her shoulder, and Rabbit turned to busy herself tightening her saddle so she could hide her burning face. Lead churned in her gut again, seeping up her chest and blocking her throat. She hated the feeling.

She watched as John stopped Old Boy by Arthur, their heads turning to one another for a moment before John sat straight up, spine bristling. Even from here she could see his mouth pulled down in a grimace, but looked away quickly when his eyes flickered to her.

She peeked to see him shaking his head at Arthur before the older cowboy snapped his reins, urging Buell into a trot to catch up with Sadie and Charles.

"C'mon, Rabbit." John called as she swung a leg over Sugar's back. "We gotta keep up with the others." His voice was calm and steady, not giving her any clue as to how he felt. Arthur must have told him his decision. It sucked John had a decent poker face.

When she moved up beside him, he dropped her hat on his head, hand rubbing it in circles to mess up her hair. When she grinned at him, the feeling of lead diminished a little bit.

He huffed and shifted, clicking to Old Boy. "Let's go, Bunny." Sugar followed the bigger horse as it moved off after the others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is the reason we don't have nice things. It's embedded in his code.
> 
> Wichita is based off of Oklahoma, more so the lake filled northeast, North Herbershire is based on Kentucky and Missouri, and Seirra Nevada is ripped straight from Albert Bierstadt's paintings of made up landscape.


	4. Heartache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you go back to chapter 3, I've changed some text during Rabbit and Arthur's reunion. Made more sense maybe now. 
> 
> Also, I can full heartedly say, fuck you Mary Gillis. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone commenting and reading, makes my day when I log on and see it :)

Rabbit rode side by side with John, behind Sadie and her elegantly named horse, Bob. Charles led the front on Taima, since he was the best tracker, and Arthur brought up the rear. The one time Rabbit had dared glance back at him, he had been smoking a cigarette, his Lancaster repeater stowed on his saddle for easy access. She had turned back around before she could meet his eyes.

It was freeing, to finally know what they were running from. Didn't feel like she was stumbling in the dark anymore, tied between and to them. Now it finally felt like she belonged.

She smiled to herself. Turns out all she needed was a gunfight and the stress of escaping. When she glanced at John out of the corner of her eye, and how alert he was despite his obvious pain, she admitted that she was probably the only one that felt that way.

They were following the Dakota River, away from Valentine. Rabbit thought it was strange that there wasn't any patrols out this way, but wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. It seemed so far Arthur's plan was working.

The river kept widening as they moved down, leaving behind the blackened shell of Limpany. They decided to ford right before the river crossed under the railroad tracks, hopping from sandbar to sandbar as they went.

Rabbit had some trouble at the second part of the crossing. Sugar was refusing to leave the sandbar, tossing her head and lifting her front feet in a tantrum. John had stopped Old Boy halfway across, too far away to be able to help.

Arthur pushed forward to take ahold of the reins, voice soothing as he led Sugar into the water. The mare went happily, nose pressed into Buell's flank, and Rabbit had the sudden insight that the horse had been throwing the fit for this very reason.

"Damn hussy," Rabbit muttered, clinging to the saddle as Sugar was forced to swim a few feet.

Arthur obviously heard her, because his shoulders started shaking. When they reached the other side, John was waiting for them both, and Arthur felt the need to include him in the joke.

"Sugar seemed to like Buell," how he managed to fit so much innuendo into the words, Rabbit didn't know. What she did know is she could practically feel the blush that swept up her face, his rough drawl making her recall the other times he used that voice.

John took one look at her and laughed, hand coming up to press against his wound. "Gets it from their owners."

If he had taken a bucket of ice and dumped it over Arthur's head, it probably would have gone better. The blush that ate at his complexion would've put shame to a tomato, even coloring his ears under the brim of his hat. Rabbit had a moment to be fascinated before he glanced at her, opened his mouth and just as quickly snapped it back shut. He handed her back her reins, eyes stubbornly away, and set heels to Buell, kicking up dust as he left her and John alone.

Rabbit took a deep breath, feeling that lead back in her gut, and set off after him. John set Old Boy's gait to match Sugar's, but she refused to look at him. Instead, she peered up at the trees and cliffs as they passed, idly wondering if someone, maybe John, would survive being pushed off one.

"Rabbit," John rasped, calling her attention away from the scenery and her idle fantasy.

She turned to him, brows lowered worryingly to see him leaned forward in the saddle, curving into his bad side as he rode. They had to move slow, Rabbit knew, to avoid reopening his wound. She wondered if she could get Arthur to stop the group for a bit, as a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his face.

"Don't worry about me," his strained grin told her she was thinking with her face again, before he dropped it in favor for a scowl. "What did Arthur say to you earlier?"

She shrugged, eyes darting away as her face heated up in embarrassment. "It's not important."

"It is to me," he surprised her, and her eyes darted back to him.

The usual fire in his eyes was doused with gritted pain, but he still watched her calmly, waiting to see if he'd have to push to get an answer out of her. The revelation made her relax, a pushy John seeming almost normal at this point.

"He said he wasn't gonna dig himself an even deeper grave." She tried not to sound bitter, and failed miserably.

John glanced up the trail before answering, checking Old Boy's gait to make sure they stayed far enough back from the rest of the group.

"He didn't ask what you wanted?" At her silence, he shifted in his seat, suppressing a hiss, before pushing. "Rabbit-"

"I tried to kiss him," she whispered, just trying to shut him up. It worked for a moment, and she could go back to ignoring him as she watched the road between Sugar's ears. After a moment, she heard a stifled snort, and glanced accusingly back at the man beside her.

His lips were pressed in a tight line, eyes crinkled in the corners. "You tried to kiss him."

Rabbit reared back at the laughter in his voice, and he hurried on, "no, Bunny, don't get mad. It's just, you're probably the first woman in years to go out of your way to kiss him. He's probably pissin himself in fright right now."

She gave him a glare, the one she'd been practicing ever since she first saw Arthur do it to shut John up.

"You copyin him now, Rabbit?" He was grinning, causing her to huff angrily and click to Sugar, making the mare push up. The mare paused when they reached Buell, but Rabbit jabbed her heels in to get her to leave the stallion's, and Arthur's, side without giving either a glance.

\-------------------------------------------------

John approached her again when they stopped to water the horses at the Upper Montana. It was getting towards evening, and Rabbit certainly hoped they camped soon. Though the thought of being in a camp again with John and Arthur sent butterflies up her stomach.

She wasn't avoiding Arthur, not really. He had come to check on her right before John did, giving her a can of peaches before patting her on the back and moving off, leaving her staring after him. Seemed he was just going to ignore what happened earlier.

_He must be the biggest idiot this side of the ocean_ , she thought as she tore the top off the can viciously, swirling the peach soup inside.

John stepped up beside her, craning to look over his shoulder, and Rabbit realized that maybe she wasn't the only one not avoiding Arthur.

"Rabbit," he greeted, struggling to open his own can. Rabbit traded him while he was checking where Arthur was, swapping it quickly and tearing open the new can with practiced ease.

John glanced down in confusion for a moment, lip curling at the liquid fruit inside the can, before glancing at her. He watched as she tilted her can back and swallowed noisily, making a face at the sharp sweetness. "Can I ask you somethin?"

"What?" She tried not to snap at him, still a little hurt over how he had laughed at her earlier.

  
"What do you want, Rabbit?" He seemed so sincere, digging for a peach with his bare finger before giving up and copying her movements. A dribble of juice ran down his chin when he pulled back.

The question caused her to frown, not liking the broadness of the inquiry. "What do you mean?"

He dropped the can on the ground, ignoring her displeased sound as he littered, and took a step closer to her, head dipping down so his nose brushed hers. "Do you want to kiss me?"

She went cross eyed trying to meet his eyes, almost missing the question. When his words finally penetrated the fog swirling in her mind, she squeaked and a slow grin pulled at his lips.

"You're an idiot." She hissed, going to shove him before remembering his wound, pulling back at the last moment.

"I'm just doing you the courtesy of checking before I ignore you." He snagged her hand, running the back of his fingers over the inside of her still tender wrist. "Well, Rabbit?"

"Yes, ok. Yes." she glared as she leaned around him, making sure the others were far enough away. Sadie was kneeling at the edge of the river, pointedly ignoring them. Arthur and Charles had moved further up the bank, consulting the map on where they were. "But it doesn't matter. Arthur-"

"He and I don't agree on everythin," John murmured as he dipped his head, lips meeting hers briefly and cutting off her words.

It was sort and chaste, a mere pressing of lips, but when he drew back Rabbit let out a shaky breath. His thumb rubbed at the corner of her mouth, eyes checking in with her. "You ok?"

At her nod, he pressed his lips to hers again. This time, she responded, hand coming up to hold his wrist as he cradled her face.

"John." Sadie's soft voice made them pull back, John slightly turning to look her direction. Rabbit peered around him to see Sadie jerk her head in the direction of the other two men, giving them ample warning for John to drop his hand from her face.

Charles was making is way down the bank, leaving Arthur looking at a compass. If he noticed anything on their faces, he kept it to himself, instead whispering. "There's a small party on the opposite side of the bridge, but they look like they're heading south."

"They think we're that dumb? It'd be suicide to go towards Blackwater with these two." Sadie jerked her thumb at John and then tilted it the opposite direction to include Arthur as he finally followed after Charles.

"We need to keep pushin. If they had turned right instead of left they would've seen us."

"We gotta stop at some point, Arthur." John turned fully towards the others.

Arthur's eyes flickered down to his midsection. "You hurtin', Marston?"

John bristled next to her, but Charles broke in before he could start bickering.

"If we follow up the river a little ways, we can camp at the lake. Ain't much traffic once we get past the damn."

There was a question in Arthur's eyes when he glanced at John, earning a scoff from the younger man. "I'm hurt, ain't dyin, old man." His eyes flicked to Rabbit, but she chose to nod instead of aggravating him further.

"Then we push on," he said it with finality.

Rabbit made sure to grab the forgotten peach can before she remounted Sugar.

\------------------------------------------------------

They camped up on the shoulders of the mountain past the lake, skirting around a hill that Arthur absolutely refused to go near. Rabbit had a sneaking suspicion that he had explained his reasoning to everyone but her, and it was all but confirmed by the pointed, whispered conversations happening just out of her earshot. Not even John would budge when she questioned him, making her angry that they were still trying to keep her in the dark.

When they finally got to a flattened piece of ground on a slope that didn't give everyone the heeby-jeebies, the stars were shining up overhead and she wasn't the only one fighting a yawn. Dinner was a couple of rabbits, shot quickly and butchered and skewered even quicker. Sadie was quick to take first watch, ever present gun in her lap as she gave her prized possession its nightly cleaning.

Rabbit sat still in front of the fire across from her, thoughts lost in the swirl of flames. She was jerked out of it when John dropped a bedroll onto her head, frowning up at him.

"Arthur managed to grab your stuff from the hotel."

Ah. She wrapped her arms around it, the unspoken question of where she'd be sleeping answered.

She felt more than saw John lean down behind her, a strained hiss slipping out as he bent to whisper. "You're welcome to put it next to mine, Rabbit." a visible shiver worked over her as his breath hit her ear, and his bark of a laugh, though quiet, made it worse.

She might, she decided as he moved away. Her eyes found Arthur where he had looked up in the middle of hobbling the horses for the night. He hadn't missed the exchange, and was leveling a dark stare at John as he ambled over. Maybe she wouldn't, after all.

Sadie's soft huff of laughter across the fire pulled her attention over, and she watched as the woman set to rubbing an old cloth into the crevices of the rifle. "Men," she rasped, "are idiots."

Charles made a small noise of dissent as he walked by, but Sadie just waved him onward. Rabbit watched as she worked until Sadie lifted her eyes up and met her gaze.

"A question for a question?"

The proposition seemed fair, and so Rabbit nodded. Sadie asked the first one.

"Your name really Rabbit?"

"It's the only one I got." She tried to say it without sounding defensive, but judging by Sadie's outstretched hands she did a poor job. Instead of apologizing she took her turn. "How do you know the men? You don't seem like an outlaw."

"And they do?" Sadie seemed to find that amusing. "Dutch and Arthur rescued me from O'Driscolls. Those bastards shot my husband. I ran with the gang, till it went sideways."

"I'm sorry." No wonder she looked caught halfway between pain and rage.

Sadie shrugged off her words. "It's the past. Arthur helped me track thems that were responsible down, in the end." The fire cast a savage glow to her face, and Rabbit silently changed her mind about Sadie not looking like an outlaw.

The cloud passed from her eyes,and she continued. "Next question. You know how to shoot?"

"I can hunt." Rabbit shrugged as she gave her admission, then her eyes narrowed. "You and Charles a thing?"

A surprised snort from behind them let her know he heard, and Rabbit turned her head to see him laid out on his bedroll, head twisted to stare at them.

"Oh, hell no. No offense, Charles." Sadie added the last almost like it was an afterthought.

"None taken," his voice was soft, filled with good natural humor as he waved off Rabbit's small smile of apology. He twisted over onto his stomach, chin balanced on his folded arms, watching the flames as the two women continued talking.

"You and John a thing?" A tight expression crossed Sadie's face, and Rabbit realized this was the question she really wanted to ask.

"Yea." Her eyes flickered over to the man in question. "At least, I think so." She had a moment to consider being embarrassed, admitting something like that, but then he glanced up from where he was brushing Old Boy to give her a smile.

"And Arthur?"

Rabbit struggled to not cough to clear her throat of the tight feeling his name brought. "That's two questions."

Sadie threw back her head and laughed, a full bellied sound that carried through the trees. Rabbit hunched over, ears burning. Finally, Sadie calmed down, and sighed, leaning her rifle against a log. "Sorry, Rabbit."

She shrugged, but the sound of heavy footsteps made them all crane their heads as Arthur practically stalked over, staring at them like they were wayward children. "Maybe be a little more quiet, considering the amount of fire after us, hm?" If lip thinness and irritability went hand in hand, Rabbit guessed Arthur was at about a seven on a one to ten scale.

Sadie gave him a snarky grin, something that Rabbit was sure she herself would never be able to get away with, and replied. "Relax, Morgan. Anything out this far is of the four-legged variety."

"That ain't exactly a comfort, Mrs. Adler, when you're in cougar country." Arthur drawled back, turning heel and dumping his satchel next to his bedroll beside John's. Rabbit pursed her lips, looking at the objects. If she wanted to put her bedroll over there as well, she'd either be trapped between them, or far away from the fire.

A look at Arthur, already stomping away, confirmed her suspicion that he hadn't changed his mind from their last conversation.

Rabbit curled her fingers into the thick fabric of the bedroll, rolling it out beside where she was already sitting in sharp, jerky motions. _Fine_. She wedged herself angrily onto it, twisting to try and get comfortable. As she shut her eyes, blocking of the soft noises of Charles' snores and Sadie's movements, she had to scrunch them tight to block the tight feeling behind her eyelids. _So much for being wanted_.

\------------------------------------------

John frowned as he watched Rabbit roll out her bedroll, motions short and jerky. He'd seen anger enough to recognize it, and he briefly wondered if Sadie had said something to upset her. However, as his eyes moved across the fire to the other woman, his gaze caught the sight of his bedroll. He'd left enough room in the hope that Rabbit would decide to sleep next to him, but the quick look let him realize Arthur had, probably without thinking, taken the spot.

When the man himself stopped in front of him and John turned to him, he took his thought back. Arthur knew exactly what he was doing.

"You gotta leave her alone, John." He sounded sad almost, _almost_ , and John scoffed, tramping down the anger in his gut.

"You leavin her alone is hurtin her," he jerked his head to where she was scrunched into a ball, head turned away from the fire. Arthur grimaced, lips pulled tight as he took a look before shaking his head.

"John, she doesn't want to be with us, she thinks she has to."

"Have you asked her what she wants?" John barreled onwards before Arthur could open his mouth. "Cuz I have, and it turns out she does want us. Even your old, cranky ass, though I don't know why."

"She's just sayin that." Arthur waved his accusations away, and John's temper broke.

"I think you're scared, Morgan. Scared that-" Arthur's hands were curled in the lapels of his jacket, unyielding as John was lifted onto his tippy toes.

"I ain't scared," it was snarled into his face, and John pressed his lips into a thin line, holding the dark gaze leveled at him. Eventually, Arthur sighed, breathe hitting John in the face as he released his grip.

"You know what she said to me when she saw me at Horseshoe, John?" At his shrug he continued. "She said I _ruined_ her."

John froze, caught in a memory. He'd been seventeen, Arthur twenty seven. Mary Gillis had turned up at camp one day. He could almost see the way the sun shone through the willows at the edge of Stillwater Creek, where the opening of his and Arthur's shared tent look out over the water. He had been leaning over a book Hosea had lent him, some story about soldiers in the war. He had been reading out loud to Arthur, when Mary had shown up.

She had handed Arthur back a little box, a box even John recognized the significance of. It was her words though, that haunted him now, twisting Arthur's face then just as they did now. _Daddy says I can't let you ruin me. Oh, Arthur. I'm so sorry._

"Rabbit ain't Mary, Arthur." It rasped out of him, sounding far more stern than he meant. He needed to get through to him, fast. No one needed an Arthur locked in a self-destructive spiral of memories.

"I know she ain't, John. But... I can't do this to her."

"I thought you cared," he was grasping at straws, feeling the anger in his gut stir again. This time however, it wasn't aimed at Arthur. Instead, it was aimed at the years and years of people constantly telling the man he wasn't good enough.

His forehead ached. John shouldn't have to do all this, wasn't made for this. Thinking and strategizing was suppose to be Arthur's job, for all that he liked to play the big idiot. But now he was racking his brain, trying to think of how he could get passed Arthur's train of thought.

"I do, John, I do." And just like that the conversation was over, Arthur sagging against his own weight, looking more like the walking skeleton that came back from Guarma than the man he had spent his whole life looking up to.

John watched as he moved towards Buell, hands automatically moving to adjust the hobble so the horse could lay down if he wanted.

John just stood there, flexing his hands, curling them into fists before letting them relax. Nope, no good. He walked briskly to his and Arthur's bedroll, not pausing to look at the man before grabbing them both. Arthur's satchel rolled in the dirt as he dragged them around the campfire, pointedly ignoring Sadie's carefully concealed concern, and dumped them in the dirt on the other side of Rabbit. If her hunched shoulders were anything to go by, she was still up, but she didn't turn when he shook out his limbs and settled on top of the familiar cushion, eyes finally settling on Arthur.

Or where he used to be. His shadow was all John saw, moving off in the dark, probably under the pretense of checking the perimeter.

_Great big oaf_. John twisted his shoulders, settling for staring up at the stars as they winked and twinkled overhead.


	5. Wishful Thinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm BACK! this chapter was really hard to write, don't know why (side glance at Arthur cuz he is stubborn to write), and I debated not putting it up until I could write the next one as well. However, the next is proving much easier to write, so here ya go.

Rabbit woke slowly. She was warmer than she had been when she fell asleep last night, something heavy draped over her shoulder blocking the morning chill. When she shifted, trying to decide whose coat it was, her muscles protested, cramping and burning as she forced her arms and legs straight in a stretch.

Whether it was from the long day in the saddle, or her self-imposed uncomfortable sleeping position, the effect was the same and Rabbit turned slightly, trying vainly to find a more comfortable spot to doze in, not ready to wake yet. The sun probably wasn't even up yet, judging by the chill on the top of her head, and the camp was still filled with sleepy sounds and quiet snorts from the horses.

Well, quiet snorts from the horses; loud, short snores from the person next to her. She didn't need to peek to know it was John, and her chest warmed at the thought that he had slept beside her after all. The bubble abruptly popped however, when he snored again, the sound catching at the top in a snort before receding into a burr in his throat.

The jacket rustled when she shifted it down, one eye opening just barely enough to see the firelight reflecting off the strong line of his nose, before darting around to confirm her suspicions of it being earlier than what she would politely call early. The fire was still stoked though, she could feel the warmth on her lower legs and feet, a contrast to the chill trickling around her ears and neck.

John snorted again, shifted, mumbled, rolled towards her. Her other eye opened when his face rolled into view.

John's features were pinched, color high on his cheeks. Rabbit reached out without thinking and laid the back of her hand on his forehead, feeling the warmth radiating out, his skin slightly clammy as though chilled.

"Been like that for a couple of hours, now." Arthur's quiet voice startled her, and she twisted quickly, ignoring the burn in her muscles now. He was seated on the other side of her, eyes already turning back towards the fire.

Rabbit could just see the rise of Charles's shoulder on the other side of the fire, Sadie's golden mop peeking out from a bundled up coat on his other side. Arthur was hunched over a little, sitting on the ground instead of his bedroll, gaze moving between the map, Hosea's letter and a battered journal she hadn't seen since the night in the cabin. His pencil scribbled something onto a page of the journal, then traveled over to the map to circle something further up into the mountains.

Rabbit struggled to sit up, fingers finding the collar of the jacket and pushing it downwards. She glanced down, fingers running over the dense fabric as she made the visual connection to the mental thought of the owner. Her cheeks warmed as she curled her fingers into the wool collar, reluctant to part with the heat, but her pride forced her into handing it back.

Arthur blinked in surprise but took it, arms already finding their way into the sleeves, shoulders twitching as the fur collar settled on his neck. Rabbit hadn't needed the quick glance at his face to know he hadn't gotten any sleep. His eyes, dark in color, were surrounded by even darker pools of skin that twitched unevenly as they roved over her, stopping on her shoulder.

"S'that your blood, Rabbit?"

She twitched, fingers rising to press again the rusty stain on the fabric. She had forgotten about it, the graze not bothering her beyond the usual pull of muscles. Something shifted under the fabric of the shirt, and she tucked her chin and slid her eyes over to see a piece of white linen. Her brows furrowed, fingers rubbing the edge where it lay against her skin, feeling bubbly wax peel beneath her touch.

Arthur's hand grabbed hers, and she made an involuntary sound as his fingers pressed against the soft skin on her wrist. "Don't mess with it," he tilted slightly forward into her space, using her hand to hold her shirt back so he could see the wrapping clearly. "Looks like Charles' work." His eyes flickered up to hers, slightly narrowed in accusation.

She hummed, fingers burning under his touch, before she pulled the lapel of her own jacket back over the evidence and tried to twist her wrist out of his grip. "It was just a graze, Arthur."

He let her hand go, rubbing at his eyes, and she bit her lip, questing around for a change of subject. She cleared her throat before her next sentence. "How far do we need to get today?"

If anything, her soft inquiry cemented the tiredness he had tried to hold at bay, a gust of air leaving his lungs as he tucked Hosea's letter between the pages of his journal. He closed the journal slowly, turning slightly towards her after a moment. "Rabbit." One word, uttered like he thought she was out to give him grey hairs.

"I think we could get to the other side of this valley," she bravely ignored the warning signs in the rumble of his voice, leaning forward to point at the map. He twitched it away at the last moment. She froze, looking up to find his jaw clenched.

He took a deep breath, releasing his muscles, and she let her hand fall back, feeling small. "There ain't any 'how far we need to get'." His eyes were shuttered, cold. "You need to git, girl, in the opposite direction. As fast as you can."

The color drained from her cheeks, ash in her mouth. This was a new level, beyond just ignoring her. "You chasin me off, Arthur?"

His lips became a harsh line. "You got shot, Rabbit. It could be you layin there, in a fever instead of John." He pointed at the man in question, the movement becoming a jab ladened with pent up anger. "Or could have been worse, and we'd've ended up buryin-" he cut himself off, staring at her wide eyed like he suddenly regretted what he was gonna say, and what the admission would uncover.

She watched as he grappled, the unvoiced emotion sinking back down in favor of anger. "Don't you got a lick of self preservation in ya?" With every word, his voice deepened, and she was the one suddenly swamped with the emotion he had denied.

"I don't need you mockin me, Arthur Morgan." Her words were quiet, but she could tell by the way he startled back that he heard. "I know I ain't got a lot of anything, but what I do have, I intend to keep." Where he had smothered the worry and want, she let it bleed through, leaning on it heavily as she stood to confront him, "and if you intend to go back on your promise, I'll -" she chewed the words when they got stuck, hands curled up in fists.

His mouth opened to say something else, but she finally voiced her frustrations in a loud heave of breath, teething audibly gritting against each other before she threw her hands up and stalked away, towards the horses. She dug into her saddlebags, emotion bleeding over into her movements, before practically ripping out her warm vest, new coat and long johns.

She fought the urge to look over her shoulder before urging Sugar to turn sideways, creating a barrier between her and the camp so she could change without breaking line of sight. _Idiot would probably just use the excuse to ditch me if I wandered off_. She breathed in slow, shucking her old jacket, pausing in unbuttoning her shirt for a moment just to lay a hand on Sugar's neck, taking comfort in the animal's nearness. She could have sworn she wasn't standing there long, but a scuffed step had her head jerking up, mouth already opening to tell Arthur to get lost.

Only, it wasn't Arthur, but Sadie who stood on the other side of Sugar. The woman pointedly kept her eyes down, and Rabbit snorted, resuming unbuttoning her shirt and laying it over her saddle. "Morning," she moved to her pants next, fingers stiff as she tried to unbuckle her belt.

"You leavin, Rabbit?" Sadie's question was soft, but it caused Rabbit's head to jerk upwards, anger already pulling at her mouth.

"No." The word was short, clipped, leaving no room for argument.

Sadie looked up, meeting her angry eyes. "Good," her sharp grin was infectious, eating up the harsh lines of her face. "Kinda nice with another woman around."

Rabbit rolled her eyes. "Thought you'd have enough companionship with-" she looked over at the fire and indicated their companions with a jerk of her head "-silent, fevered and judgy over there."

Sadie huffed, humming as she patted Sugar's rump. "Eh, ya just gotta know how to handle men, Rabbit." When the younger woman leaned forward, eyebrows raised in expectation, she continued. "Be precise. Use small words." She shrugged. "If that don't work, beat them over the head with a club."

Rabbit had the sneaking suspicion that Sadie had someone specific in mind when she mentioned clubbing over the head. However, she only pursed her lips, stepping out of her jeans and shivering in the predawn air. "I'll keep that in mind."

Sadie chuckled and moved off, leaving Rabbit to dress in peace. By the time she was shrugging into her coat, shoulders finally relaxing under the added layers, Arthur and Charles had scuffed out the fire and the taciturn pair had turned their attention to rousing John.

She idled closer, forehead scrunched as she grabbed her bedroll and started folding it. Arthur spared her a glance before he leaned back over John, roughly shaking the younger man's shoulder. "John... Marston! Wake up."

Rabbit crouched on his other side, farther back. Her chest tightened to see the worry on Arthur's face as John rolled slightly, head tilting towards him. She couldn't see his face, but the color blanched from Arthur's, and that was information enough.

John seemed to focus on Arthur's expression, pushing up slightly, before a questioning noise punched out of his lungs, and he slumped over, hand twitching to his abdomen. Rabbit started forward, but froze as Charles held out a hand, palm towards her.

John tried again, his breath stuttered out, and he grunted as he hauled himself into a sitting position, vainly trying to push Arthur out of his space. "Back off, Arthur. I'm fine."

"Sure you is, and I'm a prancin dandy." Arthur did back up out of his space though, eyes flickering to Rabbit once move before he stood up, making a small noise in his chest as he did so. "Can you stand?"

John shook his head like a wet dog, but stubbornly snarled, "yes."

Arthur waited a beat and then sighed, reaching down to help him up, Charles mirrored his movements, but John shook both of them off, voice rising angrily. "Goddammit, I said I could!"

Arthur held up his hands in peace, face leaving little to imagination on how much doubt he was harboring towards John's claim, gesturing for Charles to back up as well. In the end, when John made no move to stand under the combined weight of their stares, Arthur sighed again and motioned towards the horses.

"Just... meet us by the horses, John."

Rabbit waited until they had both started walking before she shuffled closer on hunched legs, angling to get in John's line of sight. "Mornin."

The color on John's face was still warm, a slight sheen on the bridge of his nose and across his cheekbones, but he still gave her a small smile and leaned into her to rasp back. "Mornin, Rabbit."

She got closer, smiling despite feeling worried, "can you really get up by yourself?"

He huffed, head hanging. "Probably. Maybe." He rocked forward, testing the waters before committing to the act. "Definitely have to, though."

Rabbit hummed, wondering if he'd let her help him. "Kinda surprised Arthur didn't just haul you up over his shoulder." He'd done it to her a couple of times coming down the mountains in Amberino, when she was still feeling mutinous in the early mornings. The show of strength had always left her feeling giddy, the air getting trapped in her throat at the sudden feeling of being hoisted up. John had always cackled at her expense, seemingly pleased that there was someone else for Arthur to terrorize.

Rabbit rather wished she would have been able to return the favor.

"We argued, last night. Doubt he's gonna get near me on purpose for a while." He made it sound almost humorous, but his hard grin showed his true annoyance over the matter. He made no move to hide it either. Rabbit rather doubted John could hide any emotion, the way everything rushed across his face, features matching his take on life.

To hell with it. Rabbit clutched his arm as he surged forward again, steadying his swaying form. His muscles stiffened under her fingers, but he didn't shake her grip, so she shifted her hand and pulled again. When he finally swayed on his feet, head hanging low and arms shivering on his knees, she finally asked the question.

"What'd you argue about, John?" She already knew the answer, but hell, if John was gonna tell her, she'd take any leg up into Arthur's reasoning.

He glanced up at her, eyes darting around her face before his lips pressed into a thin line. "You."

Rabbit sighed, watching as he straightened up and blinked, eyes wandering across the expanse he'd have to walk to reach Old Boy. He took the first step, teeth gritting, and then caught her off guard when he reached out and slid a hand down her back, lingering on her waist.

"Keep faith in him, Rabbit. Between you and me, he'll come around." The soft rasp of his voice was soothing, and she hiked her bedroll higher under her arm, feeling his fingers curl under her coat and fist into the back of her shirt in an effort to stay vertical.

He sounded so damn stubborn, as though through their combined strength they could make Arthur change his mind. Rabbit could already see the frown marring Arthur's features as he watched John use her as a crutch to make it to Old Boy, and silently disagreed with John's reasoning. Wild horses couldn't make Arthur Morgan change his mind.

"I got a sneaky suspicion Arthur's held out a lot longer under pressure from scarier things than you and me, John Marston."

"Ha," the usual bark that she had taken for granted was gone, his fingers twitching against her skin as he took a ragged breath.

"You gonna be able to ride, John?" She whispered it out the side of her mouth, conscious that as they got closer the others would be able to hear her worries.

"Don't worry about me, Rabbit." She winced as his voice carried, but he just bulled onwards.

She moved away from him to mount Sugar, shoulders itching in a way that let her know Arthur's eyes were on her again, but when she swung up into the saddle and met his stare with a mulish expression, he broke first, turning and leading the way north. Her shoulders sagged, happy he didn't try and start the argument again, and looked over at the sound of hooves to see John paused beside her, Old Boy's height forcing her to look up even further at him.

He looked like shit, hair pushed back against his neck under his hat, skin shiny, free hand in a death grip on his saddle horn. But he still nodded to her, back ramrod straight under the others' scrutiny. She wondered how high his fever was when suddenly he grinned, reaching down to smack her shoulder.

"C'mon, partner, we got an angry cowboy to wrangle."

Pretty high, she surmised, as she winced under the touch, hoping vainly no one else could hear him.

\-----------------------------------------

Big Valley, Rabbit soon found out, was beautiful.

They were moving slowly, so slowly even she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck rise, every crack and creak of the forest around them transforming into the sound of their hunters breathing down their necks. There was nothing to do though. John was just barely hanging into the saddle through sheer pride and stubbornness, his death grip on the saddle horn likely the only thing keeping him seated.

Arthur had dropped back to the rear again, rifle in hand today instead of strapped to the saddle, eyes constantly moving in a circle from behind them, to check on John, and then starting the cycle all over again. Every time his eyes passed over John his jaw would clench, patience running thin. Rabbit had seen that look before, a small part of her curious on how long he would wait before just knocking John out and increasing their pace.

When they broke through the trees and crested the gentle rise looking over the valley, Rabbit's breath caught in her throat at the sheer beauty. She pulled Sugar to a stop, awareness of the others around her fading to a background buzz as she watched a trio of deer lift their heads up from the edge of the little river, ears flicking towards them. Somewhere in the distance an elk called, eerie and sharp, and as if on cue the deer turned and bolted across the water, white tails flashing against the darker buffalo grass. They were soon lost in the morning fog, the long lean form of a wolf breaking out from the trees and disappearing after them.

She could have sat there all day, she knew, just watching the land come alive in the morning light, but a presence pulled up beside her, a deep sigh catching at the edge of her hearing and pulling her away from the scenery.

It was Arthur, somber eyes not looking at her, but at the valley as well as he leaned his crossed forearms against the pommel of his saddle. The early morning light landed on the uneven planes of his face, softening the jut of his jaw and angling across his nose, dimpling the scar on his chin and the nick on his cheek. The morning light was the nicest to Arthur, she mused, feeling that ache in her chest again as she looked at him.

Rabbit was stumped, sitting this close to him but unable to enjoy the moment. Their arguments roiled in her gut, tasting like acid on her tongue. It should've been simple, their reunion, but between her inexperience and his assumptions, they were floundering.

There was no way John's tactic was going to work; Arthur would see through it a mile away. Was seeing through it, even now.

Rabbit bit her lip, thinking... maybe, brute strength wouldn't work. But reasoning might. Her pride rebelled against the half formed thought taking shape inside her mind, shrieking like a siren. Her inner eye drew up the outcome of the last time she had thrown herself at him, the swift shutdown and doubt he voiced over the truth of her feelings still burning. It seemed no matter what, Arthur was convinced she didn't want him, and it would take some sacrifices to make him see otherwise.

She should just let it go, should just be happy with John and let Arthur continue doing what his own sense of honor dictated. But she knew he had to feel something for her, the want evident behind the sadness when he looked at her. And there was that damn ache again, every time he came near. She wanted him, but could she fight for him?

His head tilted slightly, arm coming up to point out something half hidden in the grass below. At first she saw nothing, then the dark fur shifted and separated from the shadows, and a black bear bumbled out into the open. It's questing huffs and snorts as it dug for breakfast could be heard even from their safe distance.

Rabbit glanced back at Arthur, and blinked at the peace that had settled on his features, his posture relaxed as he watched the animal go about its daily routine. The answer to her question came back with that ache of longing.

Yes, she decided, as she absentmindedly rubbed at her sternum to try and soothe the feeling.

Movement next to her pulled her back. Arthur was turning in his seat to meet her gaze, concern starting to dip between his brows as his eyes flickered to where her hand was pressed.

She realized a full second before he did that she was still staring. Her mouth snapped shut, and his eyes dropped to her lips for a half heartbeat before his features tightened. Still reeling from her internal decision, and fearful of a renewal to their ongoing argument, Rabbit spoke before he could voice his thoughts.

"I'm not leavin, Arthur. I spent so long not belonging, please..." She stopped short, pride blocking her mouth as the sin reared its ugly head. It was always difficult to defer to him, the sensation of being dirty whenever she gave in and let him take over hardly fading since that first night in the cabin. In the end she always did give in, though not always willingly, because it was the very thing he needed.

He sighed and turned Buell's head, hand automatically coming over to grip Sugar's reins and pull her after the larger horse. For a handful of moments, the only sound was the soft crunch of dewy grass under the horses' feet, and the sound of the world waking.

Then, so softly she had to glance at him to make sure he was speaking: "I don't want you gone, darlin." Those somber eyes turned back to her, hands returning to his own reins. "I just want you safe."

She couldn't help the snort that burst out of her nose, a wry smile following at the lowered arc of Arthur's eyebrows the noise caused. "I grew up alone in the mountains, Arthur, I've never been safe."

Arthur gave her a hard look. "That ain't exactly true, is it Rabbit." It wasn't a question, but her head still snapped away from him. Her initial response was to snap back, but Sadie's advice from earlier filtered through the hasty words, and she bit her lip, trying to decide how far she was willing to bend.

She turned back, lips pursed, she gave more of a truth. "I've never felt safe until I met you and John."

They were staring at each other again, and this time it was Rabbit who dropped her eyes to Arthur's mouth. He grunted, shaking her thoughts and bringing her eyes back up when she noticed the mirth hiding at the edges of his lips.

"No sense of self preservation." It was said as a grumble, but she saw through it and gave him a shrug.

"I told you, you two ruined me." She didn't notice him stiffen, eyes ahead as she battled with the pride in her throat, forcing it back. If this was ever going to work, she'd have to win against it, and so Rabbit took a deep breath, steeling herself. "No one will ever compare to you." The admission was quiet, but forceful, each word a punch as she dragged it out.

He was silent for so long, she swallowed and glanced over, terrified she had squashed her hope. But he was still there, staring at her with an odd, open look as he leaned back in the saddle.

Time stood still for a moment, his head canted to the side, before he opened his mouth.

Whatever he was going to say was lost in the thud of hoofbeats and a low voice calling out, "Arthur!"

Both heads turned at the shout,:Charles's bobbing, mounted form came into view. He slid Taima to a stop beside them, his next words out of breath from excitement.

"Sadie found the marker."

\-----------------------------------------------------

"Damn it, Hosea." Arthur's curse was low, tired, as he stared upwards, head craning and tilting as he eyed the 'marker'. Charles and Sadie mirrored his stance, and it would have been funny, three grown people stretching their necks to stare up the same tree, if not for the thunderous looks shared on their faces.

It was actually easier to see further away, Rabbit found. She was a little further back on the trail with John, still mounted, the other three scrunched together under the cover of dark branches. If she squinted, she could just barely see the crude H fashioned out of sticks bound together with grey twine, twirling in the breeze in the upper branches of the pine.

It was virtually invisible, unless you were looking for it. Obviously, this Hosea wasn't big on taking chances when it came to his escape plan.

Arthur was rubbing his eyes again, and Rabbit strained to hear his voice. "This is gonna be a goddamn nightmare."

Charles crossed his arms, leaning slightly as he favored one leg. "He made these at Clement's Point." When Sadie and Arthur looked at him in confusion, he continued. "Saw him makin a bunch one evening. Said it was for a job, some hoodwink he was pulling in Strawberry."

"Turns out it was us he was hoodwinkin," Arthur grumbled, causing Sadie to scoff.

"We found this one, didn't we?"

"You didn't really get to know Hosea before.." He trailed off, casting a look over his shoulder where John and Rabbit were waiting, before he gestured upwards. "This is child's play for him, he practically taught me an' John everythin on huntin and trackin." He glared upwards again. "Clearly he forgot that I only got half of it down most days an' John let it go in one ear and out the other."

"Are you tellin me, Arthur Morgan," Sadie had that sharp smile on her face again, eyes lit up at the suggestion, "that you weren't a model pupil growin up?"

"I had a lot less patience than I do now," he sounded like he was fast reaching the end of his rope as it were, voice a low growl of words as he scanned the ground. He stooped quickly and grabbed a rock, palming it before taking aim, arm snapping back and releasing.

The wooden H fell to the ground with a snap, and he picked it up, turning it in his hand before sliding into the pocket of his coat. "We'll have to destroy them as we go, if we can even find them."

"If we wanna get over the mountains, we'll have to." Charles jerked his chin up the path that snaked behind the tree. "At least we have a start."

Movement next to Rabbit turned her attention away from what was said next, a strangled sound of surprise escaping as Old Boy sidestepped into Sugar's space, trapping her leg against the saddle. The taller horse continued to move, forcing Sugar to retreat.

Rabbit looked over just in time to see John start to sway. "Arthur!" Her voice was frightened as she reached out to try to snag the falling man's arm, but her clutching fingers found only air as John's head rolled back.

Arthur turned right as his limp form hit the dirt track with a shudder and crack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has anyone figured out the meaning behind the chapter titles yet?


	6. Torn and Frayed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY

Winter finally had its cruel, icy grip on the world, and no where was it felt more keenly than in the West Grizzlies in Amberino. The snow was chest deep in the drifts and shoulders of the mountains, innocent looking from afar until you stepped foot on the pristine powder. Entire trees had been buried, only the top of their bristly crowns showing through, shivering slightly in the wind. Clear tracks were left behind wherever there was movement, snow pushed to either side as animals braved the short daylight hours to find food, water, and others of their kind. 

Rabbit was laid out on a section of white powder that had been packed tight, breath misting in front of her face as she sighted down the borrowed bolt action rifle tucked into her shoulder. A snow ladened tree draped over her hiding spot, dragged down by the weight of its cover, casting a shadow on the clean brass of the barrel. Her coat was covered in a fine white mist as the wind blew it off the branches above, the heavy material starting to feel damp against her stomach when she shifted. 

Movement, off to the right, just a bare shiver of a branch. Out on the white landscape though, it stood out like a sore thumb, and Rabbit's eyes flickered over to it. 

She fought her first instinct to automatically swivel the rifle that way, breathing out slowly as she waited. Another twitch, and a deer stepped slowly out into the open. 

She was lean, haunches showing through her coat as she struggled through the snow, head bobbing in the search of bark under the drifts. Rabbit shifted softly, slowly bringing about the barrel until she had the animal in the sights. Breathe in, exhale slowly, pull the trigger. 

The report cracked across the valley, startling a family of ravens into flight. The deer dropped to the snow, clean shot through the base of the skull. 

Rabbit stood slowly, brushing off the snow that had gathered on her coat and grimacing at the chill the damp ate into her where it seeped through to her shirt. She felt ridiculous forcing her way through the snow, breath billowing out and hanging in the air behind her wake. 

She stuck her index finger and thumb into her mouth, blowing a high, sharp note that brought a nicker in answer. The snow off to her left shivered and the surface tension broke, Sugar's head rising up and turning as she lumbered out of her warm snow cover and started after Rabbit, who wiped her fingers off quickly and jammed them back into her gloves before leading the way to the deer. 

Hoisting the carcass was harder than she thought, but she managed to lift it onto Sugar's butt with wobbly legs and the use of a rope. Hoisting herself up in the saddle proved to be even more difficult, the snow on her boots weighing her down. After two tries she finally managed it, and urged Sugar back up the hill, following the faint tracks they had left early this morning. 

Her stomach rumbled loudly, making its emptiness known even through the extra padding, and she absently dug through her pocket for a strip of meat. She stuffed it quickly into her mouth, lips twisting at the odd taste that accompanied anything harvested from an animal not strictly a herbivore. 

Charles had shot the bear last week, and though Rabbit hadn't asked for the particulars on the matter, his hands had shook badly when he got back to the cabin they were holed up in. He had eventually let Arthur push him into a rickety chair and skin the beast in his place after he almost dropped the knife. Much later, Sadie had appeared with his heavy overcoat under her arm and had shown Rabbit the two gashes spanning the back of it before she patched them with scraps from another coat. 

Her stomach rebelled when it finally came time to swallow the jerky, but eventually she won and almost immediately stuck another piece in, hoping the nauseous feeling would go away with the more she ate. 

The faint curl of smoke in the sky was her only indication that she was going the right way, Sugar heading up the steep incline out of instinct, even though it had been their first foray out since they had gotten stuck in the mountains. 

They'd been holed up for a fortnight and a half in the same spot, Hosea's trail stone cold after the first blizzard had hit and the world had shrunk. The good news was, Rabbit doubted anyone would be able to find them now.The bad news, they were stuck in the one mountain range she had never even dared to venture. 

The East Grizzlies were child's play compared to this place, the winter there a laughable matter when placed next to the snow that completely covered the cabin when Sugar ambled up to it, looking more like an igloo than a rough timber construction. The horse passed the first igloo, and Rabbit ducked low as they entered the slightly smaller mound of snow that hid the ramshackle stable. 

Charles looked up from where he was cleaning snow off of Taima's saddle and gave her a long, slow look. When Rabbit dismounted, pulling the reins over Sugar's head so she wouldn't try to join Old Boy immediately at the water trough, he finally spoke:

"Arthur rode out to look for you."

Her head dropped back, hand pressing against her mouth for a moment. "Shit."

Charles hummed an affirmative, turning his attention back to the saddle, though a small smile hovered at his lips. "Did you really think you could sneak out?"

"Yes." She undid the back saddle cinch and started to pull at the T knot to loosen the front. After a moment of silence at her words, she back stepped. "Ok, no." The saddle was hauled off and placed over the edge of a stall. "But we needed the meat, and I was goin stir crazy being cooped up."

Charles simply shrugged. "Arthur drivin you crazy?"

"I didn't say that," she hadn't, had tried so hard not to feel that way over the last three odd weeks since their conversation in Big Valley, but the cowboy was starting to test her patience when it came to how much weight she was allowed to pull and contribute.

Whatever progress had been made that day before they found the first marker never had the chance to be acknowledged. Getting up the mountain with John on a litter had been hell, and with Arthur and Sadie hunting markers, they'd been lucky to see each other even once a day. When the blizzard had hit, they had scrambled to find shelter, the hunt for markers pushed to the back burner as the world transformed into a white tornado around them. 

And Rabbit may have had a plan to execute, but there wasn't enough courage or liquor in the world to make her start that conversation in a one room cabin with a captive audience, no matter how often she felt Arthur's gaze on her face. 

When the storm finally passed, Arthur and Sadie had returned to their hunt for the markers. Charles had joined them as soon as John's fever had dropped, but Rabbit stayed behind, partly to care for John and keep him company as his wound got better, and partly, she suspected, because her talents were being under evaluated. 

"How long ago did he ride out?"

Another shrug from Charles as he switched from saddle to bridle, hands unhurried on the old leather. "About an hour ago."

She had taken a long loop before finding a spot that had offered enough protection to use for a hide. He was probably making better time, Buell was such a big horse, but it would probably be another two hours before he found her spot and followed her home. "Shit."

Charles really did smile this time, "Arthur's a born tracker. He'll figure out where you are pretty quick."

"That's not as reassuring as you think it is, Charles." Rabbit pulled the deer clear of the ties holding it in place and let it drop to the floor. Sugar was finally turned loose, and the mare wasted no time searching for a dry spot to sleep. Rabbit cocked her head to the side, eyes squinted as she stared at her horse. "She lookin a little fat to you, Charles?"

He twisted in his seat to follow her stare, and then chuckled, returning his attention to the bridle. "She's not fat, Rabbit."

Rabbit continued to stare at Sugar as realization slowly dawned in her mind. "Oh, God." She gave her horse a dark look. "You damn hussy."

Sugar nickered and stomped a foot, clearing taking issue to the name calling. Rabbit clicked through her teeth and crooned by way of apology, before turning back to her kill. 

She bent with a grunt and grabbed for the deer's feet, intent on dragging it outside to gut and hopefully avoid any more amusement Charles might show at her predicament and impending punishment. However, when she started to straighten again, the bear meat jumped in her stomach and she had to pause, punching a breath out with puffed cheeks. 

"I got that," Charles was suddenly beside her, brushing her hands away and wrapping his own around the carcass. "You go ahead, get inside. Maybe eat a little more."

"I'm fine, Charles." She pointed a finger. "Don't go naggin me like you're Arthur."

"You're losin weight," was all he said as he lifted the deer effortlessly and walked outside without a second glance. 

"Losin weight," she grumbled, looking over at Bob for confirmation that he had heard the slight as well. The gelding angled his ears forward and snorted. 

"Yea, thought so too. Men." Rabbit grinned and scratched his nose, then followed Charles back outside. 

He had already taken the deer around the side of the stable igloo to the rack they had hastily constructed for the bear, and Rabbit turned quickly, the thought of him bleeding out the animal into a bucket suddenly the last thing she wanted to see. She had to jiggle the door to the cabin a little to unstick the hinges before it would swing open, but when it finally did she almost sighed out loud at the wave of heat that greeted her. 

Sadie was buried under her coat and a blanket, only the tips of her boots sticking out, the soles facing the fire that roared in the heavy mantled fireplace. Rabbit carefully stepped around her sleeping area and crouched next to the litter that John had claimed as his bed even after he had woken up. 

Rabbit reached out and ran her fingers through the hair behind his ear, grimacing at the feeling of grease under her fingers. John shifted, rolled slightly, and gave her a grin when he finally opened his eyes. 

"Hey, Bunny." And without pausing he raised his arm, inviting her into the bundle of coat and blanket that he had wrapped around himself. 

She didn't hesitate, kicking off her boots and burying into his side, pushing her chilly hands under the edge of his shirt and snaking them between the buttons of his long johns. He jumped but let out his bark of a laugh, closing the blanket back around them and rolling to face her fully. 

His head dipped, lips meeting hers for a moment as his own fingers caught her cold ones and pressed them flush against his skin, rubbing his knuckles along the side of her wrists as he slipped his tongue inside her parted lips. She pressed closer, sliding a leg in between his own and sighing as she finally began to relax in the circle of his arms. 

He finally lifted his head, pushing her face into his chest so he could settle back into his nest. "Missed you, Bunny."

Rabbit hummed, trying vainly to turn her head away from his chest. "You need a bath, John."

He chuckled, and his hands slipped down her back. "Yea?" He squeezed, pushing her forward, burying her nose in his stench. "Maybe we both need a bath."

"I'll dunk you both in the lake if you do any hanky panky with me right here."Sadie's voice was muffled under her blanket and coat, but the dead seriousness in her tone made both of them wince. 

John was silent for a moment, fingers idly tracing patterns on her lower back. "Where'd you go this morning?"

"Went hunting," Rabbit pressed a kiss to his collarbone, already feeling him tensing at the admission. "Bagged a deer, then came right back."

"Is that why I heard Arthur yellin earlier?"

Rabbit asked, "he was yelling?" At the same time Sadie grumbled, "yes." 

They ignored her input, and John continued. "Mighty silly, Rabbit. If you're gonna sneak around Arthur, you should've let me help."

"Figured you'd try and stop me." 

"Probably would’ve, since I couldn't join ya." He groaned and shifted again, trying to get comfortable. 

Rabbit traced her hand over the edge of the scar on his side, the rough burn causing her to shiver as she remembered the night the bullet hole had been cauterized. Infection had started to set in by the third day after John had fallen from Old Boy, and Rabbit had gagged when they paused midday and she tried to change his bandage. The skin around it had turned from pink and puffy to yellow and green, and the smell was enough to even affect the horses when they caught wind of it. 

Arthur had used the flat of his hunting knife that night, after Charles had removed the dead flesh from the edges of the wound.Placed the iron blade in the fire until it was cherry red, and then with everyone helping hold John down, had branded the wound shut. 

She could still hear the screech that had erupted out of John, see the way his body thrashed under their restraining hands as they literally branded him. It probably would have been easier if he had passed out, but the fever had him hard for the rest of the night, muttering about wolves and snow, twitching until Rabbit had crawled off her bedroll and wrapped herself around him. 

He pulled her back from her memory, hands wandering up her stomach and putting them in danger of a good dunking in the lake. Rabbit made a small noise of irritation, which he promptly ignored and continued on his mission until his fingers brushed over her nipples, pulling a shudder from her. He kissed away the rebuke on her lips, licking over her bottom one before tugging it into his mouth. 

Rabbit hooked an arm around his head, angling her head and kissing him back. His arms slid around her, and for a little while only the two of them existed. Eventually though, John let out a shaky breath, and Rabbit opened her eyes in time to see his own slide shut, the lines around his eyes softened as he held her. 

Her fingers carded through his hair, softly letting him take the freely given comfort until his deep breaths changed to soft snores. 

Rabbit slowly extracted her limbs from his grip and let out a shaky sigh, staring up at the roof of the cabin.It was nice, curling up with John and feeling that warm kernel glow in her chest, but it didn’t feel right, only sharing it with John.There should be another body beside her, someone else sharing the generated warmth they created, even if they claimed they didn’t like to cuddle.

Feeling ruined indeed, she huffed and sat up, reaching for her boots again.Sadie raised her head to watch as she tugged them on, stamping them against the floor to make sure her feet were all the way in.

“Headin back outside?” the tone implied that she was crazy, but Rabbit only smiled at her unusual friend. 

“Gonna go wait for Arthur.Can’t be hiding behind John.”She was at the door when she added, “it’d be a piss poor defense anyhow.”

Sadie’s chuckle followed her outside before the wind whisked it away and forced Rabbit to take two sideways steps before she corrected and leaned into the gale.

“Storm is movin in again.”Charles called from the stable door, shoulders tucked as he moved towards the relative safety of the cabin.“Horses are bedded down for the night, might as well hole up and wait for this to pass.”

Rabbit squinted at him and then the overcast sky, certain it was only mid afternoon.“What about Arthur?”

“He knows how to handle this kind of weather, we go looking for him, and he’s likely to tear into us.”

She rolled her eyes at his word choice, knowing full well the only one that Arthur felt the need to rail at would be her. 

Charles shuffled past her and stood at the door.“I’m serious, Rabbit.Come back inside.”

She opened her mouth to reply, _think I’ll wait right here,_ when a distant boom rocked the mountainside, sending them both stumbling as they fought to identify its direction.There was a deadly hush for a moment, as if the world was holding its breath, and then Rabbit’s blood ran cold at the crack and groan as the Grizzlies retaliated with the sheer weight of ice and snow.

The roar of an avalanche slowly filled the air, vibrating against her eardrums until she winced and tried to cover them.The ground beneath her feet shuddered, the packed snow shifting under the pressure of the sound wave.A cloud of snow, far off, rose high in the sky, a flock of birds desperately trying to outrace it. 

The cabin door flung open with a crack and Sadie stumbled out, John’s indignant cry cut off when she slammed the door back shut. 

“That had to be Arthur,” She said by way of greeting, waving her hand at Rabbit to follow as she went for the stable, Charles not far behind. “Only he’d be idiot enough to use dynamite in the mountains in the dead of winter.”

Rabbit had to turn her head slightly to hear her, and raised a hand to her silent ear, grimacing at the slick feeling on the pads of her hand as she pulled away.She hiked up her scarf before the other two could notice, and replied, “Must’ve been his only option.” 

They all shared a grim look at that. 

Charles tried to stop her at the door, but Rabbit ducked around him, for once his larger frame hindering him as she bulled onwards to where Old Boy was stomping his feet and grabbed his saddle, heaving it over his back.

“John not comin?” She tossed at Sadie as she all but shoved the bit in the gelding’s mouth after rolling it between her hands to warm up the iron, not taking the time for him to do his usual routine of head shaking and teeth clenching to reject it. 

“I tied him to the goddamn litter.”

A surprisingly John like bark of laughter escaped her as she went to tighten the saddle, dodging Charles again where he stood behind her, mouth opening once more.“Save it, Charles.I’m comin, Sadie’s comin, you’re comin.Arthur needs us.”

Charles gave up gracefully, just dipping his head and moving to saddle his own horse.Rabbit rolled her eyes at Sadie as she pulled Old Boy out of his stall and outside into the coming storm.As she swung up in the saddle the snow idled for just a second, and she could see the disturbance in the distance, great mounds of snow tossed like a child’s playthings into the valley nestled between the mountains and the glacier.

Sadie pulled up beside her, tossing Rabbit’s rifle to her before pulling her scarf up over her face.“Here.If Morgan is using firepower, chances are we’ll need some too.” She clicked her tongue to her horse, and tore off down the mountainside, Bob’s longer legs only slowing down when he hit the drifts going downhill.

Rabbit jammed the rifle into John’s empty holster on the saddle and set heels to Old Boy, determined to at least keep up now that she was on a larger horse.She tried to ignore the heavy weight of dread in her gut, shoving the depressingly few tales of avalanche survival to the back of her mind. 

The closer they got to the site of the avalanche the more destruction they encountered, the pristine whiteness wrecked.Trees uprooted, heaps of snow cleaving them from their hiding spots and tossing them like they weighed nothing.Massive boulders unearthed to the sun for probably the first time in a century, deadly pockets of air trapped under a thin film of snow and ice.

The horses battled the wind the entire way, ice particles swirling up into their faces and the unprotected eyes of their riders.Within thirty minutes Rabbit felt like her cheeks were flayed open, and her nose felt like a sniveling raisin sticking out of the warmth of her tall collar.

It wasn’t until the horses’ hooves clacked over flat timber planks that they realized they were standing on top of an old town.When the specter of a broken church tower loomed out of the snow, Charles barked out:

“It’s Colter!” 

Rabbit turned just in time to see him follow this with a shout of alarm, and he dived off Taima just as a bullet whizzed through the air, clipping off the stone and disappearing into the snow.

She jerked Old Boy’s head around, already apologizing internally as she side stepped him around a building, two shots peppering the snow where they had been only a moment later. She threw herself down from the saddle and covered her head, feeling the gelding bolt over her and take off for safety.

_War horse my ass_ , she popped her head up, heard another shot and thunked down back into the snow, before risking a peek.She was stuck out in the open, no sign of Sadie and Charles.In front of her was what looked like half of an old cabin, a tantalizing distance she tried to judge from her awkward angle. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, she started to crawl towards what was once a doorframe, hoping that there was enough snow dusted on her back to break up her shape as she moved.

“I did not sign up for this,” she hissed as she grabbed the bottom of the wooden door frame and pulled herself inside, wincing as the rough surface scratched her wrists and forearm where her coat had ridden up.

The inside of the building offered minimal protection from the incoming storm, but the section of wall still standing blocked the unseen shooters view and gave her a moment of reprieve. 

She sat there for a long moment, shivering in cold and fear, finally feeling a sharp pain in her ribs from falling from the horse.She shifted awkwardly, reaching blindly for her rifle and the illusion of safety it offered, only to curse when she realized it was still on Old Boy, who was probably halfway back up to the cabin by now. 

The soft sound of shifting snow caught her attention, brought back the pounding in her head as she tried to pinpoint its location.Fingers twitched when the sound came again, and a bundled figure slowly eased around the door frame and into her hiding space.

He was far older than her, too old to be chasing outlaws out in the snow, but the pin on his jacket and the look in his eyes gave him away.Bounty Hunter, and Rabbit felt a trill of fear as his eyes and rifle swept through the room and focused unnervingly on where she was pressed against the wall.She raised her hands upwards, palms facing him, boots sliding as she pushed herself up to stand.

They both stood stock still for a moment, assessing each other, and he slowly took a step forward, his upper lip curling faintly.“Well, well, and who might you be?”

Rabbit stayed quiet, slowly sliding to the side as he took another step, trying to keep the distance the same between them.The old floorboards creaked under their weight, the sound loud in the sudden quiet.

“You better keep still, girl, else I’ll paint the wall with ya.” That drew her up short, and he took another step, the barrel of his rifle touching her cheek as he used it to pull down her scarf. 

“You’re a little young to be followin Morgan.” Her heart leapt at the name, but she bit her lip to keep silent at the obvious disdain in the older man’s voice.

The barrel turned her head from side to side, the metal cold against her cheek and neck as he studied her complexion, eyes flickering over her features as though running through a mental catalogue of likenesses.

“What’s a matter, cat got your tongue?” Her silence seemed to amuse him, though he soon grew tired of the game.He leveled his gun straight at her chest, pushing the barrel into the padding of her coat until she released a grunt of pain.“Speak up, girl, or are you a simpleton?”

A shot and a shout echoed through the town, and his head turned just a little bit, lips pressed into a thin line as he assessed the threat.It was all Rabbit needed though, and she lashed out, knocking the gun off her chest and sidestepping away.

The ricochet from the bullet he instinctively fired caught the edge of the leaning ceiling, sending snow and wood chips raining down on them.He was fast, bigger than her, and her sucker punch missed his face and clipped his shoulder instead.The momentum was turned, and she tried to sidestep again, hoping to stay close enough that he couldn’t level the long barrel at her again.

The butt of the gun swung around and cracked her on the side of the head, and she fell back under the surprise counterattack, blinking against stars in her vision while tasting blood in her mouth. 

He planted a foot on her chest, and she gave a cry when the snow stakes strapped to his heel dug into her ribs, stripping any idea of trying to wiggle away clear from her mind. 

He cocked the gun in her face, and Rabbit realized there was a difference in the threat he offered versus the one Arthur leveled at her all those weeks ago.Arthur would never have shot her outright, this man was searching for an excuse to.

He laughed as if he could see the fear on her face through the snow.“Well, girlie, looks like you ran with the wrong folk.”The end of the barrel tucked under her chin, and her fingers twitched again, adrenaline crashing through her system in a last ditch fight or flight response. 

She gasped at the loud crack of the rifle, throat seizing up until she felt like she was suffocating.The Bounty Hunter slumped over her, and she pushed at his body, understanding a distance siren in the back of her mind.

There was the sound of heavy footsteps, loud and angry, and then the body was hauled off her, leaving Rabbit to stare up into the face of a _very_ angry looking Arthur.

“Rabbit.” There it was again, that bitten back tone that sounded like his hairs were already turning grey, and then his hands were upon her, hauling her up to shake like a rag doll, uncaring that her hands tried to push him away.

“What the _hell_ are you doing here?”

She grunted at him, eyes still wide with fright at her impending end, breath an unending heaving gasp that somehow left her feeling even more lightheaded. He shook her again, her feet dragged back and forth across the rotten timbers as she fought to find her balance. 

His voice dropped another octave when he growled, “I oughta _tan_ your hide-”

“Art-Arth…” She croaked up at him, throat still closed, and something flashed in his eyes, a hand catching her by the front of her throat and angling her head back until she was forced to meet his gaze. 

Blue eyes stared down at her, the fright in her own matched in his, then abruptly he kissed her, mouth mashed against her own until she squealed at the clack of teeth on teeth and the pain under her jaw where his hand was holding her still. 

He released her suddenly, his arms bands of steel that trapped her against the front of his coat.She pushed against him in vain, trying to get a breath in through the dense wool and cotton, before she remembered she could turn her head, promptly spitting out a mouthful of blood as soon as she could. 

Cold air stabbed into her lungs as her hands grappled onto his biceps, the terrible shaking slowly receding under the protection he forced upon her.Herattacker was a lifeless bundle on the floor, the blood puddling under him a dark contrast to the disturbed snow. His cold hand slid around to the back of her head, rough leather slipping through her hair before his palm covered the side of her face.

“C’mon,” She could hear the rumble of his voice through his coat.“The others are waitin.”His arms slid away, gloved fingers catching her arm again as she wobbled in his wake. 

He pulled her from the ruined cabin, his bulky body forcing a path in the rising snow that she could follow, tugged along like a disobedient child.Horses loomed out of the darkness, the setting sun finally ceding defeat to the upcoming storm, Buell’s cream coat gleaming in the light cast from the lantern Sadie held aloft, her arm shaking in the cold.Charles was a dark figure upon his horse, the blood splattered on his coat darker in the light. 

Arthur caught her off guard, lifting her up into the saddle and rising behind her before she could even comprehend his intentions, his weight jostling her forward before he pulled her back, his hands gathering up the reins and pulling Buell’s head around. 

“Sadie, how’s that arm?”

“It’s fine, Arthur.” Her voice was a thin crack of a whip.“Dumb bastard didn’t do nothin but piss me off.” She clapped her heels to Bob, tearing off into the night without waiting for an answer.The bob of her lantern a swinging ghost in the gloom as they set off after her.

Arthur’s arm was a burning line around her middle. Her lips still stung from the abrupt kiss they had shared, and though she was not looking forward to the lecture she could practically feel him rehearsing in his head, her heart felt ten miles high that _finally_ something had happened.

When she glanced up her nose to his face though, she quickly checked her enthusiasm.His features were set in stern, angry lines, the metaphorical dam of patience holding back his emotions finally broken under the recent events. 

She might not survive the lecture after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have started the mother of all one shots. Anybody want to read a wolf john and deer arthur shifter fic?


	7. Good Intentions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is shorter than usual, but I got everything done I wanted to. Next will be longer, more fluff, little angst, some pg-13 stuff. Ya know.

The world was dark, inky and silent, with only the stars above and the warm glow of the lantern to pierce the vale of the night. Pale white, shadowy dunes broke the darkness wherever Sadie's bobbing lantern cast its glow, trees looming up suddenly in the gloom. The other riders followed the wavering beacon back down the trail through the mountains, breath billowing out in front of their faces and the fresh snow muffling the passage of their steeds. 

Rabbit's face burned from the wind chill, her eyelashes feeling like sharp shards against her cheeks, but every time she tried to slump forward to hide from the wind, Arthur tugged her upright. After about the third time, when he ran his hand up her front and tilted her face back so he could get a look at her eyes, she realized he must've thought she was falling off the horse. She was quick to smile up at him, though it did nothing for the frown marking his features, and with a huff he released her to pull at his neckerchief. 

He dropped it over her head, pulling at it to cover her cheeks and jaw, then grabbed up the reins again, checking Buell as his gait changed going up a hill. 

Rabbit could smell the smoke from the cabin, heavy and low in the storm, and heard Arthur curse as a large shape rose up beside them, swerving Buell out of the incomer's path. Fear climbed up her throat, sure the furry mass was a bear, but the audible rub of leather and the clack of teeth on a metal bit gave John's horse away. 

Old Boy huffed and snorted, spraying snow everywhere as he fell into step beside them, ears perked in their direction. Rabbit glared at him as he passed, her rifle waving back and forth in the saddle holster as he moved up the column. She was brought back from her internal grumblings when Buell hopped over a half sunken boulder, her head whipping back against Arthur's chest at the sudden movement and spiking pain across her still tender skull. 

By the time they reached the cabin, she had shut her eyes against the cold and the snow. When Arthur swung down from behind her and tugged her down to lead Buell into the stable, her eyes shot back open and she stumbled backwards, raising a hand to the side of her head. Belatedly she felt Arthur's heavy glare, and snapped her hand back down to her side, but there was no hiding the slight wobble to her walk as he ushered her in front of him into the warmth of the stable igloo. 

Charles and Sadie were already inside, the former helping Sadie dismount despite her grumblings and snarling. Her arm was clenched tight across her chest, the material of her coat soaked a darker color, and through the gash in the fabric Rabbit could just make out something too white and rigid to be flesh. 

She turned her head quickly, not wanting to be sick, and leaned against Buell as Charles pushed Sadie back out the door. It was quiet in the stable after they had left, Arthur's movement quick and calculated as he unsaddled Bob and Taima, before turning to an impatient Old Boy who kept shifting on his feet, eager to be turned loose to sleep. 

Rabbit watched him idly, a distant part of her brain realizing that she should move, maybe help, but when her feet started to carry her forward, she wobbled, and Arthur finally spared her a glance. 

"Stay where you are, Rabbit." 

She abruptly sagged back against Buell, jabbed a hand out to regain her balance, and spared a huff in Arthur's general direction before trying to push forward again. He was angry, she knew, but she just wanted to help, maybe lengthen the time before he eventually turned his ire fully to her. 

This time however, Arthur dumped Old Boy's saddle on the ground, his movements becoming a little looser as he turned and pushed on her shoulder. He corralled her backwards until she tripped again and sat down suddenly, wincing as only half of her bottom hit the upturned bucket Charles kept near the water trough and she started to spill to the side. 

Arthur caught her again, righting her easily, his hands unbearably hot on her skin when he ran them up the sides of her neck to encourage her to lean back against the wooden trough. She blinked, wondering where his gloves had gone. 

"Thought I wouldn't notice." He sounded more angry than amused, but she still blinked up at him in confusion, her mouth opening to ask _notice what?_ when his hand pulled back and he showed her. 

A fair amount of blood covered his fingers, sticky looking in the low light of the lantern, and Rabbit quickly glanced away, swallowing against the rising bile in her throat. Arthur tilted her head to the side, pulling out a bandana from his pocket and wiping at her neck before his thumb grazed the bottom of her ear. 

She immediately grabbed for his arm, trying to twist away from the pain. He centered her back on the bucket, blocking her far side with his knee before pulling her head back, frowning down at her ear. His touch turned softer, gently glancing what felt like a throbbing hole in the side of her head. 

"Looks busted," his gaze flickered to her own, "can you hear?"

"Barely," she whispered, watching his lips to confirm the words heard just barely over the dull ringing. 

"Good, means it'll come back." He nodded and set to cleaning the blood off her neck and face, pausing every time she winced. Finally though, he finished, and he backed off, standing again as she slumped in his absence. 

When she rolled her head backwards to see him, he gestured to her chest and the obviously painful way she was slouched over. "Let me see, Rabbit. I know that bastard was wearin snow stakes."

"I can take care of it," she grumbled, not liking the look in his eye. He scoffed and stepped forward, trying to reach for the edge of her coat. She caught his hands, hissing when his knuckles jolted and pressed against the heavy fabric and put pressure on the cut underneath. 

His eyes found hers again, irritation and worry blending the colors. She glared back, and watched as amusement worked its way into the edges of his mouth. "Thought you'd want me to strip you, Rabbit?"

She blinked, stared hard at his lips to make sure she heard correctly, mouth slowly opening as color blossomed up her throat and over her whole face. Her hands slackened on his wrists, and he took the opportunity to undo her coat, slipping it off her shoulders before pulling at the edge of her shirt, fingers barely exerting pressure as they began sliding the tiny wooden buttons through their adjacent eyelets. 

Rabbit wondered if he was even conscious of what he was doing, if he noticed the red blush of heat that seemed to follow in his fingers' wake, or the way her stomach jumped at every brush of skin on skin. Thank goodness it was warm in the stable, thanks to the horses' body heat, but she still felt the chill that invaded as he finished with the buttons. 

She hissed when he reached the beginning of her injuries, feet pushing against the uneven ground as she made one last feeble, unconscious effort to get away from the pain. It barely registered however, his hands already pulling the shirt apart, and her own dropped to her side, accepting that he would have his way. 

However, a tiny part of her couldn't resist trying to rile him up. "That wasn't nice, Arthur."

"I ain't nice." It sounded like a knee jerk reaction, barely any heat behind it. His hand shifted, moved to push up her chemise, and Rabbit gritted her teeth as he started to prob the area. 

His face turned critical, assessing, touch becoming firmer when he reached her ribs. He paused when she cursed, and then pressed harder, causing her to blow a breath out through puffed cheeks, trying to twist away. 

"Well," his hand quit pressing, turned into an almost soft caress as he tugged her chemise back in place, "I don't think he broke your ribs, else you'd be hollerin. He did break skin though, in a couple places." Arthur glared up at her, looking for all the world like he hadn't just had his hands on her bare skin, and growled. "Stay put, I've got to put some cream on you, else them sores'll likely to get infected."

Rabbit watched incredulously as he turned back to Buell, the horse bending he neck around to mouth gently at his sleeve as his owner started to dig around in his saddlebags. His very stuffed saddlebags. 

Her eyes narrowed, taking in the bedroll strapped to the back of the golden beast, a tent lashed behind. Several canteens clicked softly from where they were strung together from the saddle straps, and even a frying pan hung from a leather loop over the saddle pommel. 

"Why's it look like you're packed for hibernation?" She winced at the raw confusion in her words, but the damage was already done. 

He paused for a moment, turned slightly to look back at her, and Rabbit swallowed audibly. He was angry, frightfully so, and this time she had no idea why. He looked like he did when he shut her in the room at Valentine, eyes flashing darker, barrel chest swelling as though he was internally counting to ten. 

Her eyes skittered away, suddenly drawn back to that night, and she felt herself shrink up, waiting for the verbal blow to fall. 

"I thought-" he paused, cleared his throat, and when he started again it was somehow so much worse, because it didn't sound like the usual growl she had heard before. He sounded deceptively calm. "When you disappeared this morning. I thought- you must've been tryin to get off the mountain. So," he gestured at his packed gear before digging again into the saddlebag, still after his blasted cream. 

The acid bubble popped, and spewed out Rabbit's mouth in the form of words. " _So_?" She didn't blame him for the way his spine tightened visibly even through his winter coat at her outburst. All her fear, pain, and annoyance were crammed into the one word. If she could take it back, she probably would have, but it hung in the air between them, swelling like an angry bullfrog. 

He jerked the saddlebag flap closed, stalked back to the upturn bucket, and crouched between her knees. When he leaned into her space, head thrust forward so she had no where to look but into his eyes, he spoke again, slowly, each word pointed as if to make sure the message got across. 

"I was out lookin for you, to make sure you got where you wanted to be."

The acid bubble was back, choking up her throat, until she felt wetness at the corner of her eyes. She swallowed painfully, felt her fingers twitch with the need to press against her eye sockets, and fought the instinct. When she spoke, each whispered word felt like it was dragged over glass before she could expel it. 

"I want to be here." 

"I know," he looked down suddenly, focusing on unscrewing the cap to the little tube in his hands, and she sniffed, blinking as something slipped down her cheek. "Let's get this on you, darlin'." He gestured at her chemise again, waited for her to pull it up, but Rabbit stayed still, unable to breathe past the need in her chest. She felt like she would suffocate if she continued, and that she would drown if she didn't. 

"Arthur-"

He shushed her, and moved to pull at her chemise himself, baring her stomach and rib cage again. This time though, he seemed effected, thumb idly tracing along some unseen line on the soft skin of her stomach. His voice had dropped to a rough whisper as he watched his fingers, "I ain't... good. At relationships, or really anythin," he chuckled at the last bit, a near silent snort of self-deprecating humor. "Cept robbin, and killin. 'Fraid what you want, Rabbit," he sighed and looked up at her, the skin around his eyes tight and pale. "I don't rightly think you really know what you're askin for."

She was quiet, staring at him, unable to process that somehow they were having this conversation, with her shirt off, stomach bared. Arthur was touching her, palm calloused as he pressed up under her ribs, and yet _still_ he was trying to distance himself. "I know what I want, what I'm askin for." 

Arthur was already shaking his head before the words had finished leaving her mouth, before she even got through half of the sentence. "You have somethin, with John." 

It was her turn to huff a near silent laugh, a near suicidal rush prompting her next words. "John's great, but he's not you." She reached up slowly, let her fingers curl around the wrist of the hand pressed against her stomach. "You're great, but you're not John." She let that sink in for a moment, watched as his eyes stayed stubbornly on her stomach, thumb still tracing that mindless trail of circles. "I want," she swallowed, restarted when her voice broke. "I want you both."

"You're sure," that deceptively calm voice was back, the one that suggested she rethink her decision, but she nodded softly, letting her hand close more firmly around his wrist, fingertips rubbing against the thin skin on the inside. Her heart was pounding a mile a minute when he finally looked at her again. "I need to hear you say it, Rabbit. Somethin like this, could get ugly, and we can't go back once we start-"

"I'm sure. I want this," she whispered. "Want you."

She almost jumped when she felt the warm touch of his lips against her own, but she only gasped, her own lips parting slightly under the pressure. He pulled back slightly, angled his head, and pressed forward again, free hand coming up to cup the back of her head. Rabbit remembered distantly something John had said, some half idea that Arthur didn't get kissed often, but then his tongue slid along her lower lip and the thought vanished in a puff of smoke. 

Rabbit was practically vibrating when he pulled back once more, sniffling under his touch as the hand cupping her neck slid up to wipe at the wet tracks on her cheeks. They stared at each other for a moment, until Rabbit gave him a watery smile, and he tapped her nose with the tip of his index finger, the lines on his face softening out. 

"Kissin me that bad, girl?" She almost seized on her half drawn breath, registering the joke a second too late and paying for it with a sharp stitch in her side. He laughed at her predicament, looked down to hide the smile she just caught on his face, and started when he saw where his hands were. 

"Let's, well," he coughed slightly in the back of his throat, and Rabbit could've sworn a slight coloring pinkened his cheeks. "Let's get this stuff on you, get you back in the cabin where it's warm."

The top of the tube came off easy enough it seemed, when Arthur could focus fully on it and not be distracted by Rabbit's bare skin. The cream tingled when applied, but Rabbit was inclined to think it was more Arthur's touch than any medicinal qualities as he pulled down her chemise once more. His hands went to the edges of her shirt, but Rabbit stopped him, hands taking their turn to cup his jaw instead. 

She felt it tighten under her touch, but didn't pause, pressed kisses along the edge of his beard until she could feel the softer texture of his lips again. She sighed against him, leaning forward to follow the line of his body, hummed when she felt his hand on her waist, keeping her steady. 

Arthur let Rabbit kiss him for a good while, let her explore his features with the pads of her fingers. Eventually though, he moved back, breaking the contact, and succeeded in buttoning up her shirt. 

"C'mon, darlin'." Her coat was tugged up her shoulders, and then he rose to his feet, tugging her along by the lapels of her coat. 

She clung to his arm, feeling like if she let go, she'd float off into the night sky. Or the moment shed lose contact with him, she'd wake up and it would all be just a dream. 

Arthur paused just before the door of the stable, looked down at her upturn face. Something about her starstruck expression amused him, if the curl of lip was anything to go by. "Rabbit." His voice brought her out of her stupor, and she blinked owlishly up at him, finally connecting the dots that the cream he rubbed on her must have some sort of pain medication in it, judging by the way she swayed gently on her feet. 

"If, you want something. From me," he clarified, and she nodded, "you're gonna have'ta tell me. I ain't a romantic like John..." 

Her growing smile made him trail off, and he tilted his head, confused. 

"Arthur Morgan," Rabbit poked his stomach with a finger hard enough to make him grunt. "You. Are a terrible liar."

"And you are drugged." He grumbled and pushed open the door, dragging her out into the cold. Her laugh seized up in her throat, and she let him manhandle her the short distance to the cabin. When he turned to go back to the stable however, she started, grabbing his hand and tugging until he looked down. 

"You'll come inside?" She felt like she was yelling over the wind and snow, but he must have heard her, because he nodded slowly. The nervousness died back down in her throat, only to be replaced with butterflies. 

"I will. Just gotta get Buell unsaddled." And with that he pushed her more firmly toward the door, waiting until she had shouldered it opened and disappeared inside before pulling out a cigarette and stomping back to the stable, trying stubbornly to light the slim stick with a struck match against the wind. 

Inside, Rabbit paused, letting the heat from the fire roaring in the mantle place slowly thaw her chilled skin through the many layers of clothing. The slight dream-like quality hazing her vision persisted, so much so that Charles had to call her name twice, and touch her arm, before she turned to acknowledge him. 

He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes. He had shucked his coat, rolled his shirt up on his arms to his elbows. Rabbit looked past him for Sadie, saw her propped against the wall with Charles' coat draped over her. Her injured arm, wrapped with stiff, white bandages, was flopped to the side, as though Sadie fell asleep before she could drag it under the cover of the coat. 

John was crouched in front of the fire, warming up what looked like a couple cans of beans. 

Charles squeezed her arm lightly, drawing her back, and Rabbit blinked, bringing him into focus. 

"Arthur patch you up?" At her nod, he let go of her arm and gestured to the fire. "Let's get some food in you, then."

When she stayed still, he shifted. It wasn't until he said her name again that John lifted his head and frowned at her. 

"Bunny." She visibly started, head jerking to fix on his face. "Get over here." 

Her feet finally obeyed, mind surfacing just enough for her to stumble to John's side. Concern pinched his features, and she felt more than saw Charles move behind her, hands splayed out in an effort it corral her onwards. 

John reached out when Rabbit was close enough and tugged her downwards, grunting when she collided with his shoulder instead of landing next to him. Hands, calloused and warm, grabbed at her jaw, tilted her head back. 

Distantly, she heard Charles question, "John?"

The rasp that followed was just under her ear, and she tried to snuggle into it. "Bet it's something Arthur put on her, probably that cream he kept pushin on me after I got shot." He wiped her hair out of her face, jostled her a bit until she opened her eyes again. 

"Bunny, listen. Need you to wake up, gotta eat somethin."

She grumbled at him, and he snorted in answer. "Naw, you ain't doin that. C'mon, up."

She grumbled at him again, dropped her head even lower, and finally got a few words out. "Not hungry, John. Tired."

"That'd be the medicine," Charles dropped to her other side, pulling a can from the fire and jabbing a spoon inside. Rabbit rolled her head to watch as he quickly swirled the beans inside and checked the temperature. "Haven't seen her eat anything all day."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Tattletale."

John stifled what sounded like a reluctant chuckle and took the can from Charles when it was offered. He dragged out the spoon, ladled with beans, and held it up. "You gonna make me feed you, or are you a big girl?"

She gave him a jab in the ribs for his trouble, and took the spoon, hand shaking slightly. He watched her eat half the can, and when she stopped he nudged her again. 

"Keep goin." 

The beans roiled in her gut, the nausea from earlier in the day making itself known as her stomach cramped down on the hot food. She shook her head, dropping the spoon back in the can and leaned away, hand pressed to her stomach. Both men watched her for a moment, until she exhaled and sagged against John, still hiding her face. 

John shared a look with Charles, an unspoken question in his raised eyebrows, but the other man shrugged and shook his head. 

Rabbit groaned when John turned her slightly, supporting her weight as he shuffled her over to his cot. 

"C'mon, sweetheart. Lay down, sleep it off."

She plucked at his collar when he deposited her on the cot, but he caught her hand, holding it tight as he leaned down and kissed her hard. It was a mere press of lips on lips, made hers curl with the way they put pressure on her teeth. 

He pulled back just far enough to mutter, "don't think I've forgotten about you leavin me to go save Morgan." Something shifted on her face, brought back a little of the lightheartedness in John, and he smoothed her hair down, mumbled. "Don't worry, Bunny. Just sleep."

For once, she obeyed John, dropping almost immediately into a limb twitching sleep. She woke up two times during the night. First was when John slipped into the cot behind her, and they had to rearrange their limbs, the next, when Arthur came inside. She woke as soon as he touched her cheek, lifted up enough to pull from John's grip and slide over to where the older man was sleeping. 

He seemed almost surprised when she plastered herself to his side, a surprised grunt leaving his throat when she worked under his opened coat and stuck cold fingers against his waist. He took it in stride however, shifted just enough to pull the coat over them both, and settled back against his bedroll, listening as her breathing evened back out and used it to lull himself into a light doze. 

Rabbit didn't twitch again that night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I most likely won't be updating this until next month. Never fear, I will always work on this story. Wild dogs couldn't keep me from finishing it. It just might be a monthly updated one.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment, let me know what you think. I adore hearing what people think of the story


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